


Revengers Assemble

by TozaBoma



Category: Loki Lives - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Kinda, Revenge, Thanos had it coming he only had himself to blame, actually a lot of Thor later on, and if you can find them, cameo by the Guardians of the Galaxy, if you have a problem and no-one else can help, in case it wasn't obvious, maybe you can hire the Revengers, what can I say Loki's needed a good shag for ages now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-09 21:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TozaBoma/pseuds/TozaBoma
Summary: SPOILERS for Infinity War. Right after the opening salvo, a certain not-dead someone and a ragtag bunch of what's left of Asgard (and some gladiators) will have to stop Thanos. How hard could it be? Rated Teen and Up for some language, a bit of choking, and multiple fights for revenge!





	1. Half Empty

 

Korg looked around the bridge of the ship, then peered out of the window. “Well we made it over here ok. Funny how that new ship just cut ours in half like that - and then only attacked that bit.”

A smaller figure appeared next to him, all grey and white armour and dark hair. “We might have succeeded in getting people to this half, but Thor is on _that_ one,” Valkyrie said. “We have to go get him.”

“Nah, he said to wait here and protect everyone,” Korg said cheerfully. “He’s a fighter, right? And he’s survived longer than Doug even though he’s not that bright.”

Valkyrie bit her lip. “When he said take everyone and hide, I thought he meant long enough for us to regroup and kill whoever it is attacking the last Asgardian ship.”

“Yeah. But hey, we got half of your last Asgardians, and a load of ex-prisoner gladiators. Half is better than none. Anyway,” he added, looking back out of the window, “we can go over there, put the fires out, and see if there are any food or supplies we can bring back to this half.”

A sudden volley of weapons fire from the monstrous enemy vessel hammered into the drifting half-ship. It splintered, exploding and sending fizzing, spinning pieces into surrounding space.

“Er… ok maybe not,” Korg said quietly.

Valkyrie’s face went hard. “We find whoever did this and we slice them into pieces.”

Korg put his palms up quickly. “Wait a minute, Better Doug - what about all the people on _this_ half? You’re like their leader now. Aren’t you?”

Valkyrie looked up at him for a long moment. “No,” she said. “I think it’s him.” She pointed past Korg’s shoulder.

He turned and they looked at the immaculate figure sitting on the decking cross-legged, his hand gripping Gungnir so tight his knuckles were striped white and red.

“Oh him? He’s asleep,” Korg said. “He’s been asleep since the ship got broke in half. Funny - he looks like a ghost I saw once.”

“No… he’s not sleeping. I don’t know what he’s doing, but… it’s definitely something.”

Korg trudged over and crouched before the figure. “Hey, Green Man. Whatcha doin’?”

The man on the decking opened his eyes, gasping as if it were his last. It took a few seconds for him to focus, to get some breath back, to realise where he was. “Shit.”

“What is?” Korg asked.

The man got to his feet, brushing himself down with his free hand, planting the long Asgardian spear into the decking with the other. He looked at Valkyrie. “It’s Thanos. He only destroys half of what he finds - and he’s done that,” he said, gesturing to the far window with his head. “He’ll leave and we can patch up this ship and make our escape.”

“Hold on a minute,” she fumed. “If it’s Thanos who’s done this, then we track him down and we kill him. He killed Thor.”

The man gave a whimsical smile. “Oh Thor’s not dead.”

“Then we bring him back,” she said.

“We don’t have time to go over there and search for him - he always ends up on Midgard and he has friends there who will no doubt jump at the chance to fight such a villain as Thanos. Whilst they’re distracted we can get the surviving half of Asgard to safety.”

“You’re right we don’t have time,” she snapped. She pointed at the window. “The enemy ships will leave soon, you said - we need to attack right now.”

“With what?” he asked reasonably, although everything about his face screamed condescension. “Half of the ship has been destroyed. This half needs repairing so _everyone_ can keep breathing. We have no food, no water, and no heat source. What we need to do first is protect ourselves - who knows who else is going to come this way and find a stranded ship?”

“Maybe if someone else comes along, we could just get them to help us,” Korg said.

The man settled a look on Korg so harsh it was a wonder the Kronan’s rocks didn’t shatter. “We are _not_ doing ‘get help’,” he snapped. He looked back at Valkyrie. “We get our ship together and head back to Asgard.”

“Asgard is gone, fool!” Valkyrie demanded.

“And _because_ it is, she’ll have been released. I hate to think of her wandering around space, looking for someone to kick when we could set her on Thanos and enjoy the show.”

“Who ‘she’?” she called, even as the man in green turned and began to walk toward the far door. “And don’t you dare say Hela or I’ll kill you where you stand!”

“Most definitely _not_ Hela,” he said over his shoulder. “Although that would be fun. No - someone who can track and _destroy_ the tesseract that I just gave Thanos.”

She drew a dagger. Before Korg could react she had hurled it straight at the man’s back.

He simply turned and caught it.

Korg blinked at him, then at Valkyrie. “You two could join a circus,” he said, impressed. “I know this woman who runs a travelling—”

“You gave the tesseract to Thanos?” Valkyrie shouted. “To save yourself, I’ll wager! You coward! You self-serving bastard!”

The man’s face lost all pretence at civility. His eyes, hard as diamonds, regarded her for a full second. Then he flipped the dagger round his hand and it disappeared. “I had my reasons - one of them being this woman will now know _exactly_ where the tesseract, and by extension Thanos, is at all times. Even when _he_ doesn’t.” He spoke slowly enough, but his voice was laden with something even Korg didn’t want to poke with a stick. “He doesn’t have all the gems yet. We can still kill him.”

She leapt at him with a growl, but Korg stepped into her way. He grabbed her arm. “Look, I don’t know who this Thanos is or what a tesseract is, but I know Green Man is right - we can’t just drift here in space. People are already hungry and we don’t know where we are.” He let her go. “If he knows a place where we’ll all be safe, then maybe we should go there.”

“There will _be_ no safe place if Thanos gets all the stones!” she shouted.

Korg shrugged. “Green Man said he hasn’t got them all yet. Why don’t we just get them first?”

“What?” she gasped.

“The Kronan here has a point,” the man said smoothly.

“And I don’t think Thor would want us to follow _you_ anywhere,” she spat. “We’ve all heard tales of you and your tricks.”

The man walked back up to her and glared. “My ‘tricks’ just stopped Thanos from wiping out this half of the ship,” he seethed. “My ‘tricks’ just saved Thor’s life so he could fight another day. My ‘tricks’ just bought us time to find Thanos and kill him.” He paused. “What have _you_ done today, Valkyrie to a dead pantheon, gatekeeper to a broken tomb?”

She pushed him in the chest, turning away. “Where are we going?”

“Well hey - don’t want to interrupt or anything,” Korg said, “but the engines aren’t exactly working at the moment. _How_ are we going?”

“And _why_ are we going?” she pressed. “You’re walking out on a fight. As usual, or so I hear.”

The man paused. He turned slowly and eyed her. Suddenly she didn’t feel entirely safe. “Asgardians and the other people on this ship are going to start dying if we don’t find water and food. Whether he planned to or not Thanos destroyed the half of the ship that was carrying supplies, and I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty parched myself.” He paused. “Far from me to antagonise anyone—”

Valkyrie opened her mouth.

He raised his index finger hastily and she stopped. “—But when all fifty of your hangovers hit you at once, even _you_ will need water.”

“So we get this ship under way, then,” Korg said brightly. “Uh… how do we do that?”

The man turned and looked at him. “Right… yes. Find anyone on this ship who knows anything about engines. Put them to work fixing them. Those who aren’t engineers can be assistants.”

“Right you are, Green Man,” Korg nodded. “I’ll go get them started.” He walked away, toward the door.

“Oh, for the record,” he called after him, “my name’s not Green Man.”

Korg stopped and turned. “What is it then? You can’t be Better Doug - that name’s taken.”

The man smiled. “It’s Loki.”

Korg gave a friendly wave. “Hi Loki. I’m Korg.” And then he turned and walked off.

Loki turned to Valkyrie. “Thor is not dead,” he said firmly. “But if we don’t find this woman then half the universe will be.”

She glowered at him. “Fine. We get everyone here to your friend and then we find Thanos and kill him. But know this,” she said, pausing to produce a fresh dagger. She point it at his face so fast his nose jerked back an inch to prevent injury. “If you screw with us, if you try to harm any one of the people left alive on this ship, I _will_ kill you, Asgardian prince or no.”

He bent closer again, his eyes hard and accusing. “I’m not Asgardian,” he said quietly. “Now… I suggest…” He put a hand up and his finger and thumb grasped the tip of the dagger pointed at him, freeing it from her grip, “you put your anger and your grief to better use. Like restoring power to this ship so we can save everyone on it.” He flipped the blade around to offer her the hilt. “Yes?”

She snatched it off him. She backed up, watching him warily, as she walked from what was left of the bridge.

The moment she was gone Loki sagged. Grasping Gungnir for support he caught himself before he could fall flat on his back. He moved back to a step he could plant himself on, but something caught his heel and he flailed. Landing hard on his backside he grunted with pain, Gungnir slipping his grasp and falling to the deck. It faded and disappeared, and suddenly his hair was messier, shaggier, his skin paler and covered in ash and sweat. Rents and dents appeared in his sparse armour, rips and blood spatters on the green cloth beneath. He simply breathed, his eyes closed, before he put a hand up and nursed his throat. He let it go, pressing at his chest instead.

He detected a sound.

His head shot up to see Valkyrie peering round the doorway. “What _were_ you doing all that time you were sat here?” she asked quietly, but her voice was strangely lacking in malice.

He made his hand drop and forced himself to sit up a little straighter. “Illusions. They take it out of you.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She studied him for another moment. “I should thank _you_ , I suppose.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

She smiled slightly. “We’ll find this woman, not-Asgardian. Maybe you should get some rest before the others see the state our new fearless leader is truly in.”

“We don’t have time,” he said, forcing himself to stand up.

“Make time,” she said coldly. “We’re down to half the population of Asgard, and Asgard is gone. You’re the closest thing we have left to royalty - Odin help us.”

“Your confidence in me is touching.”

“Suck it up, Loki. Pretend you care about these people long enough to get them to safety. Then we find Thanos and tear him a new one - and get Thor back.”

Loki inclined his head. “As you say.”

She nodded and walked off.

Loki walked stiffly to the window and looked out at the debris that had been the other half of the ship. “If you die and leave me in charge of these people, brother,” he muttered, “I will kill you.”

 


	2. Half Full

 

 

The ship trundled through space like a bicycle with a square wheel. That is to say, slowly and very awkwardly.

Korg ducked through the metal carnage that had been a doorway to the bridge until Thanos had struck. He made it to the windows by the lump that was once the throne of a chair and stopped, swinging his new favourite club to lie on his shoulder.

“So a couple of the gladiators are wondering if we can squeeze any more water out of those frozen blanket thingies you hung out of the window,” he said casually.

Loki, attempting to look less than defeated as he stood in front of the windows, his hands laced behind his back, didn’t turn. “Why don’t you out your head out of the window and check?” he asked politely - a little _too_ politely.

“Nah - it’s cold out there - that’s why the blankets are covered in ice, man,” Korg said cheerfully. “Do you think we _could_ get a bit more water out of them? People are a bit thirsty, you know?”

“We all are,” Loki said quietly. “Some for more than water, though.”

“You mean revenge, right? I’m with you there. Miek barely made it out alive. I know that was because I kinda trod on him, but still, I wouldn’t have done it if that witch woman hadn’t been trying to—”

Loki’s right hand shot up and his index finger pointed with all the mighty fury of a generously pissed off frost giant.

Korg paused.

Loki turned slowly. He closed his fist, putting his hands behind his back again. “Isn’t there something else you could be doing?” he asked with a wide, calming smile. “Bringing good cheer and optimism to the liberated slave-gladiators, perhaps? Relief and humour to the surviving Asgardians? Hmm?”

“That’s a good idea, mate. Thanks. You’re always so positive,” Korg said, before turning to walk off. Loki breathed a sigh of relief. Korg paused suddenly. “You sure you don’t need me here? I mean, you seem a bit lonely all in command by yourself, and—”

“No no,” Loki said hastily and convincingly at that, “I’m sure they need you.”

“Ah. Is this a ‘my people need me more than I’ king thing?”

“Yes,” Loki said gladly, pointing at him, “exactly that. You’re right. How could I pretend when you see right through me?”

“Well it’s a knack, y’know? I kinda see the good in people, even when they don’t want me to,” he said conversationally.

“Quite. Well, off you go then,” he said with a happy smile.

“Thanks, man. If you get lonely up here, just let me know.”

“Will do.” Loki watched the Kronan walk back out of the room. The second he was gone he turned back to the window.

He stared.

And _stared_.

Something made him spin impossibly fast; he realised a dagger was in his hand before his eyes could find their target.

“Evening,” Valkyrie said with a sly smile, from just beyond the doorway.

“Oh. You,” he said, distinctly disappointed. Then he turned back to the window, the dagger losing itself in folds of either material or magic.

“Just came to see if you knew where we were,” she said, stalking up to the ledge and standing by his shoulder. “Although it is touching that you have a knife ready whenever you see me coming.”

“And I always will.”

“Have a knife ready? Or see me coming?”

He furnished her with an indulgent smile. “Both, my dear.”

“Promises, promises.”

He turned to look back out of the window. “We’re nearly there.”

“How can you tell? Asgard must be tiny pieces of gravel right about now.”

“Can’t you feel it?” he asked quietly. “Something… otherworldly. Something that doesn’t belong. Something just lying in wait for a chance to seize control. Something… close by.”

“Maybe it’s you.”

He turned at the waist to appraise her and the improbable shape in her hand. She ignored him but he continued to study her. “You know, considering you expect me to lead the people who are left alive to some safe place, you seem very sceptical of my ability to do so.”

“What tipped you off?”

“I don’t know - maybe the bottle you seem to have found from out of nowhere. Is that your super-power? Finding alcohol?” he asked. She ignored him but it only made him smile. “Tell me, how much _is_ enough?” he added.

She glanced at him but he turned to face her. “Don’t start,” she warned.

“No really - I’m interested. What does drink do for you, anyway? Drown out screams? Deaden your reflexes? Make you forget for just a moment?”

“Shut it, ‘God of Mischief’.” She noticed his look of surprise. “Yeah - I’ve been speaking to some of the rescued Asgardians on this ship, mister, and the _only_ reason I think you can get us to safety is that _you_ need safety too. Don’t think I trust you, and don’t think I won’t gut you like a fish if you turn on any of us.”

An unctuous, deliberate smile spread over his face and he turned to look back out of the window. “Amnesia, then. Well good luck with that. It doesn’t last.”

“Have you tried it?”

“I don’t recall.”

“You’re not funny.”

“You’re not my demographic.”

Her mouth opened but it stalled. She shook her head. “Whatever. How close are we to where Asgard _was_?”

“Not far,” he said faintly. “In fact… It should be right around…” He turned and went back to the ruin of the chair. He pushed at the large wrecked button on its right-hand arm. “Ok - full stop!” he called.

Valkyrie looked out at the stars, but the ship did not seem to be slowing down. “Uh… I don’t think they heard you.”

“Hello? Engine people?” Loki called at the arm. “I said you can stop now!”

The ship sailed on.

Loki took a deep breath. “Oi! You there!” he bellowed.

“Hello,” came a cheerful voice.

They both looked up to see Korg poking his head through the doorway.

“Korg,” Loki said evenly, betraying a monumental effort to stay calm, “you said this chair worked.”

“Well yeah, ‘course I did,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want you to feel like the place was falling apart.” A metal panel over the doorway chose that exact moment to peel away from its mooring and crash into the floor. He looked down at it. “No more than it is, I mean.”

“Then get down to the engine room and tell them to stop this crate before we overshoot Asgard,” Loki called. “And Korg - do not tell anyone we’re here.”

“Right you are,” he nodded. He disappeared from the doorway.

Loki turned slowly and looked back at the window. “Now all we have to do is find _her_.”

“You never did say - who ‘her’?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

“I hate it when people say that.”

 

. . .

 

A glimmer.

Something of a ripple, not in space but in the _feeling_ of the things in it; a gentle fingertip delicately touching at a raindrop, loathe to break the surface tension holding it together; a feather tumbling through the soft breeze before it lands on a surface so lightly a debate rages as to whether it’s really there.

She fought her eyes open. She made them swivel. Everything was black - cold, pain, dark, hurting her ears with its silence.

And then a huge maw appeared as if from nowhere. It caved around her, cloaked her in a kind of darkness that was at least lighter than the Stygian dungeon.

Warmth - light - some kind of noise. She struggled to command her limbs, to control her environment - _I must have control!_

Her wrists registered pain and touch and heat and - _something alive_ —

She screamed.

 

. . .

 

Loki strode through the cargo hold, only to feel his feet falter as he realised possibly every single Asgardian left was lining the upper catwalks with naked curiosity. He turned and found Korg by the door on the ground level. “ _This_ is your idea of not telling everyone?” he accused flatly.

“I only told the one dude so he could help me fix the door,” he shrugged. “Only he couldn’t hear me too well, so I had to kind of shout across the makeshift living quarters.”

Loki felt his eyes roll so fast it was a wonder they didn’t suffer whiplash. He pulled himself together and then pointed to the large door. “Open it!” he called. “Stay back my friends - let me get her in!”

Valkyrie pulled on Korg’s arm and drew him back beyond the threshold. A forcefield slammed down and protected them from the ravages of vacuum space as Loki grasped the shape that floated in through the only half-working door in the side of the ship.

He pulled it in, taking care to push it down close to the decking before he waved a hand in the air. Korg adjusted settings and the door began to close.

Eyes, heads, hands over packing crates appeared from nowhere as every survivor strained to see what was happening.

Loki guided the body down carefully as gravity and air were restored to the cargo hold around them and his charge. He pulled wayward hair - impressive hair, untameable in its punk attempt to stick it to the man - from the face carefully. He couldn’t help an admiring smile touch his lips as he ran a hand down the metal armour of the wrist. Anticipating the first move, he weighed both wrists down as the face began to turn, began to restore its own colour.

“Here you are,” he said, watching her writhe in and then accept the warmth, the light, the _life_ of the cargo hold as her own.

Her mouth opened; the now closed room rang with her shrieking voice: “ _Hel-vegr!_ ”

Loki blinked. “No, just a ship of Asgardians in need of your help.”

 

. . .

 

Valkyrie stepped back from the forcefield. She bumped into Korg, who dutifully moved back for her but then came forward to watch the two people in the cargo hold. “You know her?” he asked hopefully.

“Do I,” she breathed. “That’s Amora.”

“That sounds like a song.” He paused. “You two friends then? Fought together or something like that?”

“No,” she said, her hand reaching down to grip her sword. “Not together.”

“Is she powerful though?”

“Oh yes. She’s a witch.”

“Oh hey - maybe she can fix my mate’s leg. He got a bit of it chopped off when he was fighting those strange Chitauri soldier-fellas during that whole altercation where the ship kinda got lopped in half. Weird they only have Chitauri _fellas_. I mean, unless the fellas have little baby fellas it kind of makes you wonder where the she-fellas are. She-fellas? She’llas? Anyway, his leg - giving him a bit of trouble, so I hear - he’d welcome a witch to take a look at it, maybe fix it up a little.”

“She’s not that kind of witch,” she breathed.

 

. . .

 

Her eyes sucked in the light, her mouth sucked in the air, her skin sucked in the humidity. Her eyes refocused over and over until she recognised the dark shape looming over her.

“ _Bzzzz—zzz—mmm—eee—off—yer—help._ ”

“Help?” she echoed.

The shape drew back a way, the tight grip on her skin making it prickle with heat and pain subsided somewhat. Something moved a blockage from her eye and she realised she could now see with both.

“—This place?” she croaked.

Something pushed at her back and she was sitting upright. Her head shook quickly as if flapping water from her hair. This helped her put the universe the right way up and she then scanned the room in front of her for weapons.

“You’re with friends,” said a voice.

She froze. Her head panned left and right, her eyes took in the pale skin on her hand, keeping her upright, _helping_ her. “Loki.” The word was pushed from her by surprise.

“At your service.”

A cough, an effort to stay upright - and then _he_ was helping her steady herself. “Helping,” she realised. “—What is it you want?”

“Ah - always the optimist,” came the voice from behind her. “We can help each other, Amora. Shelve whatever plans you have - I know where there is an Infinity Stone and I need you to get it.”

She coughed - this time out of sheer surprise. Shaking off the hands, she pushed herself to her feet and brushed down what was left of her rather dour prison fatigues. She looked down at them, the grimy grey cloth of the boxy top and loose trousers sticking to her out of worry at her present predicament. “First of all,” she said, turning with such regal poise that several Asgardians watching from the upper catwalks let their mouths hang open in appreciation, “let’s talk about food. I’ve been imprisoned, set fire to and most recently frozen half to - well, death.” She shook her hair free and turned to find exactly who she expected standing behind her. “You owe me a hot hog roast sandwich and a pint of mead. Then we will talk about this Infinity Stone and why _I_ shall possess it and not you, Loki Odinson.”

Loki spread his hands, let them wave outward, and gave a demure bow of his head. “As you say.”

 


	3. The More The Merrier

 

 

Amora cast her long fair hair over her shoulder and sat back from the dirty, sooted table between her and Loki. “Now I have eaten the disgusting scraps which I suspect were the finest you had, you will tell me the adventures I have missed,” she commanded.

Loki took a deep breath, but all he could do was let it out slowly. He folded his arms across his chest and studied her. “How was prison?”

“Hel on Asgard,” she grumped.

“I can relate.”

“Oh can you?” she demanded. “Somehow I doubt that, son of Odin The Perfect.”

“Can I stop you there,” he interrupted irritably, one hand up. “One thing you missed was everyone finding out that I’m _not_ actually a son of Odin.”

She frowned. “So why am I listening to you if you’re in line to the throne?”

“I am. Just not that one,” he said. “Son of Laufey and Fárbauti, thank you.”

“What?” she managed. She paused. “I… But Odin would not have admitted to adopting you.”

“Not adopted,” he said stiffly. “Taken as one of the spoils of war. Except how he tells it, he was rescuing me.”

Amora nodded, letting that go through her head. “So… your real parents. How did you get their names?”

“I asked around. It’s amazing what people will tell you when you’re blue.”

“But Laufey was…” She paused, mulling something over. “Laufey was a frost giantess - a half-goddess, I heard. She was… honourable. I don’t know this Fárbauti.”

“A bit of cad, or so I’m told.”

“Ah. I should not have expected anything else,” she said with a warm smile. “Where’s your br—. Where’s Thor the dumb blonde these days?”

“Got a haircut, lost an eye, grew a conscience, became king when Odin died,” he supplied. “And he’s not as dumb as he looks.”

“Odin is dead?” she asked quietly.

“I saw him leave.”

She looked around the ruined room. “That’s… not the news I craved.”

“What _did_ you crave, imprisoned for all that time?”

“Hela - that she would come for me and we’d finally take Asgard together.”

“Uh… about that,” he said delicately.

Amora rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me she is also dead.”

“That’s how you were floating about, freed of your prison. Ragnarok happened. Half of Asgard escaped - on this ship.”

“Ragnarok!” she blurted. “And I was chained to the walls like an animal! I could have _helped_ , Loki.”

“As it turns out, it was a good thing. She was going to destroy Asgard - so Surtur destroyed her with it,” he shrugged. “But we still have half the planet here.”

“Only half?” she gasped. “You imbecile! You should have saved them all! Who are we to rule now?”

Loki managed to bite his lip against the words dying to get out. He cleared his throat quietly and felt the annoyance go down with it. “Listen carefully. We rescued _everyone_ from Asgard save Hela, whom I presume died as the place was obliterated. As we were fleeing to Midgard, Thanos attacked and wiped out exactly half of all of us.”

“Thanos?” she said in disgust. “That wizened old grape needs a sharp stick up his—”

“He certainly does,” Loki said coldly. “But here’s the thing - he took an Infinity Stone from us. Now he has two. He’s powerful, he’s focused, and he does not intend to stop until he has command of all of them.”

“Ah, I see,” she mused. She smiled, then ran her hands through her magnificent hair, scraping it from her face and into a rough pony tail. She let it go and it tumbled down her back and over her dirty, abused prison greys. “You want to use me to get a stone from Thanos - and as he will not give it up willingly, I may have to kill him.”

“You always were one of the smarter Asgardians,” he smiled.

“Only compared to you.”

“Thank you.”

“No.”

His face dropped. “What? No?”

“No. I shall not be your weapon to swing at a would-be god, Loki not-Odinson. Kill him yourself.”

“You can keep it when he’s dead.”

Her mouth opened; it stalled. She flicked her gaze around the room, observing yet again the destruction and hard times her people had fallen upon. “You lie.”

“Have you _ever_ known me to lie?” he asked.

“Ye—.” She stopped short. “Actually? No. Not to me. You may have been economical with the truth, or only given a slanted view from your perspective, but… not outright lied, no.”

“Once Thanos is dead, I don’t care what happens to the other Infinity Stones,” he said. He leant forward, his elbows on the table between them. “Make no mistake, Amora - he _will_ die. And you _will_ kill him. And then yes, you _will_ get to keep the stone.”

“You wouldn’t leave me with such a powerful artefact,” she said flatly.

“I swear, on Frigga’s soul, I shall not try to separate you from the stone.”

“Frigga, eh? Must be serious,” she smiled. “How is the old battle-axe? Still training the royal guard how to fight dirty?” She paused as Loki looked away, to his right. His face took on a frustrated sheen, as if his eyes were trying to read print on a screen just out of reach. “Loki?”

He looked at the floor, then across the table at her with piercing eyes. “She died,” he said quietly.

Amora frowned. She leant forward to rest her elbows on the table, fixing Loki with a stern glare. “You… have lost… everything? Your birth mother, your father, Odin and Frigga, your brother, your adoptive lands and your right to the Asgardian throne - and possibly to that of Jotunheim, too?”

He did not meet her gaze. “It’s been a hard few years.” He watched his hands tangle wretchedly in his lap. “But in a strange way, Thor is… _better_ now. He no longer seeks to control me as a brother, only the trouble he _mistakenly_ thinks _I_ cause.”

“Touching,” she said, surprised. “And when I have trounced Thanos and taken the stones? Do we get one each and go our separate ways?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled.

“Truly - why do you wish him dead? I have rarely seen such revenge in your eyes.”

He sat back and let his arms fold again. His jaw slid to one side for a moment before he composed himself. “He thinks a few stones makes him, a mud-sucking barely-evolved simian, a god. That jumped-up, tiny-minded excuse for a second-rate poor man’s villain thinks he’s thought of everything, planned for everything, made provisions for everything.” He sat up, pointing at her with lethal intent. “Wait until he meets _you_. Wait until he has the full fury of a seething, vengeful Hel-cat on his back with the entire might of Asgard in her hands of magic. Let him feel _that_ and wish he hadn’t been born! Let him feel _that_ and realise how much he’s misjudged the universe! Who does he think he is, to try to mould the universe the way he wants it? Who does he think he is, to think he can grind Asgardians under and just take what he wants? How _dare_ he?”

A slow, indulgent smile spread across her face as he calmed his ire and made himself sit back. She shook her head and began to grin. “I understand.”

He lifted his chin slightly. “So you’ll do it?”

“I will. But not alone.”

“If you want me to—”

“Not you, Loki. You are cunning in a fight, but you are a scalpel, not a club.” She let her head tilt as thoughts ran through it. “No. I need… people. We must round them up first.”

“We’re struggling to eat and make it anywhere as it is,” he said.

“Then I will call for help - I know at least one who will come to us.”

“How?”

She smiled. “If she hears me, she will come, trust me on that.”

His eyes narrowed. “Who?”

 

. . .

 

Valkyrie watched, her eyes slits of suspicion, as the taller woman walked through the makeshift kitchen area with the grace of someone used to checking the corners for dangers. “So you’re free, then.”

Amora turned and glared at her. “Do I know you?”

“No.”

“Should I?”

“Definitely not.”

“And yet…” Amora paused, her gaze gliding over her. “You smell like… a valkyrie.”

“Watch it.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Amora said in surprise. “I only mean that… you smell of duty and sworn allegiance, of protection and honour, glorious combat for the noblest of reasons.”

“Oh,” Valkyrie managed. “I thought you were going to say a bottle of whisky.”

“Do you have a name, Honoured One?”

“I—.” She stopped short. “I… don’t. Not any more. I’m just Valkyrie.”

“Then, Valkyrie, I thank you for your years of service to Asgard. You have fought for our freedom, kept the children safe in their beds, and taken the rightful souls to Valhalla. All of Asgard should revere you, instead of treat you like foot soldiers because Odin says so.”

“Uh… thanks?” she hazarded.

Amora waved a hand. “Did you believe the oaths Odin spoke about me whilst I was imprisoned?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“But you above all should know how much of his spin you can believe.”

Valkyrie let her mouth flounder. Then she shrugged. “You have a point.”

“I am putting together a team,” she announced. “I would be honoured, Valkyrie, if you would join me in glorious battle.”

She laughed, oblivious of Amora’s stare of concern. “You want me to fight Thanos with you, right?” Valkyrie managed. “No way. Thanks and everything - but no thanks.”

Amora took a step toward her. She tilted her head and eyed the shorter woman with such intent that Valkyrie was rooted to the spot. Amora’s large brown eyes stared, so earnest, so sincere. “You will not be alone, nor used as bait. You will fight as you have been trained, and wreak bloody vengeance on a tyrant who has destroyed half of Asgard and _dares_ to presume he can rule the left-overs, as if we are so much space-trash. _We_ were here long before he was, _we_ were the ruling realm, and once he is _dead_ and Asgard can rebuild, we shall see what will come of its ashes, because of the leaders of women and men that brought it through this dark time.” She paused and stood tall. “Are you with me?”

Valkyrie felt something in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty before realising she was already nodding. “Yeah. You bet I am. Point me in his direction and let me go.”

“Not on your own, sister. We will do battle together - and he shall rue the day he had the audacity to cross Asgard.”

Valkyrie grinned, knowing hot tears of pride were prickling in her eyes for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. “Hel yeah!”

 

. . .

 

Loki stood by the large cargo door, peering through the tiny window beside it into space. “I don’t see anything.”

“She is coming,” Amora announced. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands, palm up.

Asgardians and freed slaves alike watched from the catwalks, confused, hungry, bored.

Until Loki straightened from the window rather abruptly. “I don’t believe it,” he said under his breath. He tore his eyes from the vision of death and destruction outside the window and looked up to the Kronan by the switch to the forcefields. “Get ready!”

Korg nodded and put his hand to the buttons. He leant forward to watch. Loki waved a hand and Korg pressed.

The forcefield rammed down to protect everyone on the catwalks and behind. Loki grabbed the side of the doorframe but Amora did not move. She simply waited, her eyes closed, her hands out, her hair rising in the sudden lack of atmosphere as the door began to open.

A massive _clang_ echoed round the cargo hold as something very heavy collided with the surface. It ducked under the door and _clomp clomp clomp_ ed its way toward Amora.

Loki’s mouth hung open for a long second. Then he waved frantically at Korg.

He was far too busy staring at the new arrival - until Valkyrie elbowed him in the mineral deposits and he pressed the right buttons to begin closing the door to open space.

It _whomp_ ed shut and the forcefields were released. Loki turned, smoothed his hair and his clothes, and cleared his throat.

In the middle of the cargo hold, just a few feet away from Amora, was a tall, imposing woman made of muscle, sinew, and arse-kickery. Her bright silver chainmail snaked from her neck down to the fur boot on each foot. A gold and green tabard of silk hung over the top, lashed into place by a wide, polished leather belt of dark brown. A rather heavy-looking broadsword was in a very used leather sheath on her back, two large sais securely fastened in hip and knee holsters on each leg. Her hands went up slowly and she removed a shiny silver helmet, allowing it to thread her long blonde hair through the three special cuts in the sides. She squared it under her right elbow and looked at Amora.

“You,” she said flatly. “I thought it was royalty who summoned me.”

Amora looked back at the tall, green-eyed warrior. “He did.”

The woman frowned; she turned and spotted a man by the door. “You? By Odin’s beard - why aren’t you dead? —Or a horse?”

Loki grinned nervously. “Angela!” he cried, with all the sincerest gladness he could muster. “It’s been so long! You look like you could kill several hundred opponents on the battlefield with your bare hands and still have the energy to gut a few pickpockets on the way home.” He threw his hands wide. “Look, Asgardians!” he called. “It’s Angela, come to fight for us again!”

There was a stunned silence. And then someone clapped. That was all it took. People began to make noise; cheering, whistling, clapping, stomping of feet.

Angela put a hand up. “Prince Loki Odinson - what is this?” she asked irritably.

“He is not of Odin,” Amora said.

“What say you?” Angela demanded.

Loki closed on them hurriedly. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“Maybe you should die for the havoc you have wrought upon the nine realms!” Angela roared. She stepped back and grabbed a sai from her left side. It was flipped to protect her forearm as she turned on him.

Loki put both hands up. “Now now - there’s no need for that,” he said hastily. “Not when what is left of Asgard is watching us because they are desperate for hope only you can give them.”

Angela paused. She looked at Amora. The woman still standing in prison garb nodded.

“Put that away, Angela, and let’s catch you up, shall we?” Loki said with a disarming smile. “Hmm? What do you say?”

Angela looked up and around the people on the upper catwalks. Then she looked back at Loki. “You are not a son of Odin?”

“No. But I am the rightful king of Jotunheim.”

“Jotunheim,” she said, and if distaste had been a colour she would have had enough to repaint the entire ship. “Such an icicle-bearing Hel-hole. Who would rule there?”

“The son of Laufey,” he said pointedly.

Angela looked at Amora. She nodded again. Angela appraised Loki for a long moment. “Fine. But you’re not _my_ king.”

“Ok obviously you think you know better than me and you want answers, so let me catch you up right here even though I know the full story and I also know it’s not a good idea, but hey, what would I know, I only saved _half of Asgard from a mad Titan with two Infinity Stones,_ ” he snapped.

Angela took a deep breath before blowing it out and planting the sai firmly back in its holster. “My apologies, Laufeyjarson,” she said slowly. “It seems I spoke out of turn.”

“You just—. What?” he blinked. “What did you call me?”

“Laufeyjarson. You _are_ the son of Laufey, you said. She was… a formidable warrior and one Hel of a drinker. She was… honourable.”

“I—. Oh,” Loki managed. “Well… ok then. —Wait, I’ve never heard ‘-jarson’ before, just ‘-son’.”

“That’s because Odin was old-fashioned,” Angela sniffed. She ran a hand through her hair. “Can we drink now?”

Loki’s mouth flapped and then he shrugged, clearly out of options. “Why not.”

“Before we do, you must know why we called you here,” Amora said.

“Tell me,” she allowed, folding her arms.

“A glorious battle, my sister. You, me, and a Valkyrie.”

“A Valkyrie?” Angela gasped, her eyes widening. “This sounds like something I want to be a part of. Tell me, and make it clear - against whom do we do battle? What are the stakes?”

“Everything,” Loki said. “Life, the universe - _everything_. And all you have to do to win is kill Thanos.”

“Thanos!” Angela hissed. “That _viper_ \- that life-leaching scum-sucking grub! We shall kill him and bathe in his blood!”

Loki’s face spread into a wide, smug smile. “Lovely.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I went with the Prose Edda Laufey and not the unnecessary gender-flip of Laufey in the movies. And I’m not even sorry.


	4. We Have a Plan

 

Loki walked through the makeshift living arrangements. He came to a stop to survey the Asgardians, mixed in with the people from all over the galaxy once kept as slaves, now huddled together in week-old clothes. Parents held onto their hungry children, friends to their hope, people to their desperation.

He swallowed and forced warmth and friendship into his voice. “Everyone,” he announced. “We have a plan. Thanos has devastated our peoples and murdered thousands of our kin. Now Amora, Asgard’s most lethal sorceress, Angela, Asgard’s most fearsome warrior, Valkyrie, the last of a long line of proud, impressive Asgardian warriors, and I, your humble saviour, shall find him and take revenge. We shall bring back our people and make us whole again. He will curse the day he crossed us, and we shall ensure he will never hurt anyone again.”

An old woman by his foot reached out and laid a hand on his knee. He flinched but looked down at her. “You’ve changed,” she said quietly.

“How so?” he asked, lost.

“You said ‘we’.”

His mouth worked for a second. Then he looked up and around at the now eager faces. “Well. We are locating him as I speak - but we will keep you safe. You will be fed, and clothed, and given the chance to pick up your lives again, until we return.”

“You’ve got a team?” a voice called.

He looked into the groups of people but could not discern the owner. “Yes.”

“And you think you’ll win?” another voice asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

There was murmuring through the crowd, until a small child stood up, hanging onto his father’s shoulder. “King Loki?” he asked.

Loki blinked in surprise. He adjusted his gaze down to the boy, who could not have been more than six years old. “Uh… Just ‘Loki’ will do.”

“Then… Just Loki… what’s your team name? All the best teams have names.”

Loki smiled. “True, child. We too have a name. A name that will strike fear into the hearts of those who attempt to oppress us; a name that will live in infamy from this day forward; a name that will come to mean freedom, and free will, to all who hear of it. Oh, we _have_ a name.”

“What is it?” someone called.

He opened his mouth.

A female voice interrupted: “The Revengers.” And then it gave a small, barely-there belch.

Loki’s face scrunched up in betrayal. His eyes closed as he dealt with the unexpected ripples of acceptance from the people around him. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “As my dear colleague and fierce warrior Valkyrie has chosen, all by herself with no help from me - it is indeed ‘The Revengers’.”

Valkyrie stepped out from the shadows along the side wall, a bottle in her hand. “And make no mistake, people - Thanos is _going down_.”

People cheered and clapped.

Loki pasted on a welcoming smile as she walked through the seated crowd to stand by his side. “‘Revengers’? Really?” he hissed from the side of his mouth.

“Your brother chose it and he has the heart of the people.”

“My brother is an idiot.”

“And you’re a good liar - we all have our strengths,” she hissed back.

Loki sighed. Inwardly. Then he raised his hands to everyone in the filthy metal hovel. “People, we shall deliver you to a clean planet so that you may rest and await our victorious return.”

He turned to go and relished the cheering and general sounds of appreciation. He was unsurprised to hear footsteps following him.

“So you know where Thanos is, right?” Valkyrie asked from behind him.

“As I said, Amora is locating him now.” They stepped out of the room and walked down the bashed-up corridor that led back to the top end of the ship.

“And where are we dropping all these people?”

“Sakaar.”

“What?” She grabbed his elbow to bring him to a stop.

He wrenched his arm free of her grip. “It’s without a leader right now and is perfect for thousands of refugees. It has water, food, and they can easily blend in and get everything they need to live a peaceful life while we kill the bastard who wiped out half of their numbers.”

“You’re going to trap them there?”

He straightened up. “I have a plan, Valkyrie. They will keep this ship and a temporary leader. We will make our own way to wherever Thanos is. By the time we return, they will be happy, fed, and amenable to helping us found a new Asgard.”

She stepped back. “Who are you and what have you done with Loki?”

His hands went to his hips. “I was adopted by them. I was looked after and raised by them, when my own parents found me physically lacking and cast me aside. Do you know how it feels to lose two sets of parents, woman? Do you know how it feels for the entire universe to view you as an evil, manipulative agent of some darker, self-serving purpose that they haven’t even thought through? Do you know how many times I have helped people, only to be called a serpent, a demon, a chaotic meddler who only does anything for my own benefit?”

“But… you’re all of those things.”

“Well of course I am!” he cried in frustration. “But _the point is_ that every time I have done anything for my benefit, people forget that it helps them, too! It’s very easy to forget how I basically invented the Avengers. I mean yes,” he said off-hand, “I had to stab a SHIELD agent or two and yes, maybe I had to try to enslave a city, but look what it gave Midgard! A whole team of superheroes to fend off people like Thanos!”

“You actually believe everything you’ve done has been for the greater good?” she gasped.

“Of course it has!” He huffed. “I got Thor kicked out of Asgard in the first place, so he could learn to be a better person and a wiser king. I created the Avengers. I made sure Thor didn’t take the throne of Asgard, so he was able to go on a hunt to kill Surtur and take his crown, which meant that he could _then_ start Ragnarok to kill his step-sister Hela - which saved all these people. I made him a _great_ king, Valkyrie, don’t you ever forget that.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “I…” Then she shook her head, latching onto the Bigger Picture. “But what happens when these people expect you to return and you don’t?”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I return?”

“Well what if we lose?”

“Lose?” he scoffed. “How can we lose? I meant what I said - we have the best Asgard has to offer. And it will be more than enough to take down an arrogant overgrown Titan who didn’t think we’d be able to fight back.” He turned to walk off.

“Wait.” She watched him to turn to face her again. “You’re saying I’m the best Asgard has to offer?”

“Your name kind of gives that away,” he said irritably. “Do you know my brother wanted to join your ranks until he found out he wasn’t allowed?”

“Actually… yes. He mentioned it.”

“He was younger then, and even more of a fool than when I had him banished for his own good,” he grumped. “But he was right; you don’t mess with a valkyrie of Asgard.” His face turned concerned. “Or do I have that wrong?”

“Nice try, Loki. Amora does it waaaay better than you.”

“I don’t doubt. Just be wary of her bed chamber ways, Valkyrie - she doesn’t do snuggles and she sends break-up messages by raven.”

“And how would you know that?” she asked hotly.

He simply smiled, turned on his heel, and walked away.

She huffed. Then she lifted her bottle and took a looooooong draft.

 

. . .

 

Loki rounded the corner, finding Amora and Angela in deep discussion over what appeared to be tankards of water. The metal table between them was covered in Angela’s discarded weapons and a large-screen data tablet.

“Ladies,” he said casually.

Angela looked up. “Do you have the will of the people?”

“Aye,” he allowed. “We will set them down on Sakaar where they’ll be out of the fight. Then we can pursue Thanos as promised.” He came closer, looking at the data tablet between them. “Do you have his location?”

“I have made an educated guess as to where he is going - I do not understand why he chose there, but with Amora’s skills we shall deposit the civilians where they are safe and still have time to intercept him,” she said simply.

Loki nodded slowly, his eyes going over the map on the screen. “Knowhere. Interesting.”

“Do you know of it?” Amora asked curiously.

“Never been,” he said thoughtfully. “However, if that’s his target he must think another Infinity Stone is there.”

“Is there?” Amora asked with a smile.

“Of course not,” Loki said. “No-one would be stupid enough to leave an Infinity Stone with the Collector. He’d sell it to the first person with a fat purse or an amusing collectible to trade.”

“Let’s hope he is wrong,” Amora said darkly. “And then we shall talk about how we kill him and why you have no qualms about me walking away with a stone.”

Loki surveyed the two of them. He sniffed casually before rounding the table and taking the third, empty chair. “You know, with you two and Valkyrie in the team this may well be a short fight.” He paused to appraise Angela. “What will you do when this is over?”

“I relish the battle ahead of me - what happens after that is in the lap of the gods,” she said amiably.

“Hmm,” Loki said quietly. He looked at Amora deliberately. “Valkyrie.”

“What of her?” Amora asked, flicking hair over her shoulder.

He smiled slightly. “I do hope we don’t let her down. She seems to have formed a rather higher opinion of you than the one Odin left everyone with.”

“Is that so?” she asked carefully.

“Yes. And, far be it for _me_ to gossip, but I was rather surprised how quickly you managed to talk her into joining our merry little band of revengers,” he said politely. “She seemed very… amenable.”

She looked at her nails before running a hand through her hair. “When we reach Sakaar the first thing I need is a bath - and then some fresh clothes,” she announced, before standing up and walking off.

Loki watched her go, grinning to himself.

“You do not change,” Angela said quietly.

His face dropped. “What?” he asked in what would, in anyone else, be complete innocence.

“Putting a pretty distraction in someone’s way to keep them from your heels,” Angela said.

Loki put his palms up in surrender. “I swear, Valkyrie is _not_ just a pretty distraction.”

“So you _are_ trying to keep Amora occupied?”

“Always a warrior, Angela? Always trying to find someone’s weak spot?” he teased.

“What vexes you about her?”

Loki’s face turned more serious. “Her magic was forbidden for a reason. She is a sorceress.”

“And you are the god of lies and illusion.”

“Exactly - _illusion_ ,” he stressed. “She can makes things _real_. That was always Odin’s grief with her - she could manipulate _reality_ to do as she bade. Now I have no doubt that she will use this ability to get us to Sakaar and then Knowhere without us having to travel through normal space to do it. What worries me is what she does _after_ the battle is won and Thanos is dead.”

She sat back and folded her arms. “She says you will give her one of the stones.”

“Oh and we do indeed have a deal,” he said earnestly. “I promised I would not separate her from the stone she chooses, and I deliver what I promise.”

She shook her head. “I never could follow which scheme you were hatching.”

“It’s not a scheme, Angela,” he said, almost petulantly. “We win, she gets one stone - and I get the other.”

“You will not offer it to me?” she smiled.

“Stones aren’t your style,” he said off-hand. “I’m sure you could find a use for Thanos’ armour, though. Melt it down, maybe - ask Eitri and the dwarves if they can recast it for you. The gauntlet itself could make a formidable shield in battle.”

“You think I care only for battle,” she said quietly.

He blinked, surprised. “Well… yes.”

“Battle is what I live for, yes. However, once you have won, you must have someone to celebrate with.”

“There are thousands of people on this ship who will gladly feast, drink and dance with you for _days_ when we return with Thanos’ head.”

“Perhaps. But I had someone prettier in mind.”

“I think Valkyrie’s eye will be elsewhere, and my brother’s not here.”

She sighed. “You never were that bright.” Her eyes raised to his. She waited.

He got up quickly. “Well. You - uh - get ready for the battle ahead, and I’ll see if Amora can get us to Sakaar faster than our beleaguered engines.”

“I am always ready.”

“Uh - right, yes. Good,” he managed, turning rather awkwardly and making it through the door to the corridor. He paused just outside, his head tilting in confusion. “What just happened?” he asked himself. Then he shook his head and walked off.

 

 


	5. I've Had the Time of my Life

 

 

Loki stared out of the window at the complete blackness, conscious of Angela and Valkyrie behind him in an almost perfect V formation.

“You’re sure we’re moving though, right?” Valkyrie asked.

“For the fourth time, yes,” Loki snapped. “See how there are no stars? We’re travelling through the sub layer of reality.”

“And you know this how?” Angela asked.

Loki turned and pasted on a wide, patient smile that was made up of one quarter irritation and three quarters wishing for silence. “I’ve seen Amora do this before. Trust me - we will soon be at Sakaar and then these people and this ship will be safe.”

The decking bucked abruptly and threatened to throw them all off their feet. Valkyrie staggered, her hands out. Angela’s hand clamped down on Loki’s shoulder to keep them both upright.

Valkyrie waited but the flooring was stable again. She straightened up.

Loki looked at Angela’s hand on his shoulder. Then back at her.

Her face set into a look she had probably used to win card games of chance, she simply made her hand lift two inches. Loki inclined his head in thanks and then turned away as swiftly as was polite, going to the large window and looking out.

“There, see?” he said with relief. “Sakaar.”

The planet below was no more than an atmosphere away. The three of them surveyed the blue and green below, individual thoughts already turning to clean water, food, a change of clothes.

“Where do we land?” Valkyrie asked.

“Wherever we like,” he said, then turned and walked out of the room.

Angela folded her arms, something going through her head. She looked at Valkyrie, noticed her watching. “Was there something?” she asked.

Valkyrie raised her eyebrows. “Don’t worry about him. He never falls - not without someone he’s planted beneath him to cushion the deadly impact. I’m pretty sure he’s been lower than any of us and yet here he is, pseudo-leader of all these people.”

“You and I are warriors, Amora is a sorceress - but Loki is something else. When the battle is joined and we are fighting in our own ways, it will be Loki who ends up with the spoils.”

“You mean he’ll double-cross us and take the stones?” Valkyrie frowned. “I knew that the moment he said we should go get them from Thanos.”

“You misunderstand,” Angela said, her arms dropping. “He may be the only one of us who can hold a stone or use it on Thanos. He may be the only one of us who thinks in such a way that he is free of sentiment or conscience. It may be him, ultimately, that kills the mad Titan because he will do whatever it takes to get his own way. And at this moment, his own way matches what is best for Asgard.”

Valkyrie’s head tilted and she appraised her for a long moment. “You seem to know a lot about him.”

“I have watched him.”

“Creepy,” Valkyrie said, with a face slightly scrunched in distaste.

“As the leader of armies it was my duty to keep an eye on his dealings,” Angel said matter-of-factly. “I believe I have witnessed many of his plans, whether they failed or not. He is cunning, he is ruthless, and he makes things happen.”

“You admire that, don’t you?”

Angela looked away and put her hands behind her back. “I admire the ruthless efficiency.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s pretty.”

Angela swallowed. “We will need his coldness to win. When it comes down to it, he will do what needs to be done and we will vilify him for it, as Odin and Asgard once did.”

“Yeah - hate to shatter any illusions you had about the great and altruistic Loki, but half of the times he was imprisoned or cast out was because he was actively trying to _kill_ Asgardians - or Midgardians. Don’t say the words ‘New York’ and ‘Loki’ to anyone from Midgard in the same sentence unless you want to get punched.”

“Where do you hear these things?”

“Asgardians - and Midgardians.”

“I see.”

Valkyrie smiled and turned to go. She paused, her shoulders sagging. “Look, I’m not saying he’s not salvageable. I’m just saying he may be the tactical, scheming genius we need - but that doesn’t put him on our side. Watch yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Valkyrie turned back to her, trying to think of something to say.

So she didn’t see the dark green shadow by the door, withdrawing before she could discover the listening owner.

 

. . .

 

Amora walked down the ramp of the ship slowly, feeling slight cramps of pain and the dead weight of fatigue pull at her every move. She reached the grass of Sakaar and let herself lean against the side of the ship. Her eyes went over the people who had already left the vessel with eager, smiling faces made of relief. Some were sitting in the grass, others lying flat on their backs to let the sun warm their faces, others just happy for fresh air and space.

“You alright?” came a voice.

She watched Valkyrie make her way down the ramp and stop by the hydraulic strut. “I will be.”

“I guess all that magic takes its toll, huh.”

“I am quite depleted,” Amora managed. “However, some sun and some rest will see me fit again.”

“You’re already pretty fit,” Valkyrie said. Then she slapped her mouth shut and turned deliberately to look out at the people twenty or so feet away.

Amora smiled to herself. “I must get some good food, a bath, and some clothes,” she said. “Would you join me?”

“For the good food?”

“Definitely.”

Valkyrie turned back to her and nodded. “Ok then.”

“And the bath too, if you like.”

Valkyrie hid a smile and fell into step beside her, as they headed toward the village not a quarter of a mile from the ship.

Loki came down the ramp and stopped at the bottom.

Korg followed and ended up next to him. “Well looks like we’re all here,” he said cheerfully. “Thanks, man. You saved us.”

“Yes I did, didn’t I?” Loki said with a smile. “Right, well. The ship is yours, Korg, and you’re to look after all these people until we get back.”

“You mean I’m not coming with you?” he asked, surprised. He turned to look at Loki. “But what about the fight? I mean I never met this Thanos but I’m pretty big, y’know, and I’m made of rocks. I could be helpful. And oh hey, I survived all those gladiator fights. Not trying to be rude, but you’re kinda small and soft - you’d get squished real easy if he got hold of you.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Loki said with a genuine smile. “But really, there’s something so very, _very_ important to do here and you’re the only person I can trust to do it properly.”

“Aw, really? Thanks, man,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. “What is it? You need like a revolution organised, or some town meetings, something like that?”

Loki put a hand out and patted the Kronan’s massive arm. “In a way. I need _you_ to be a leader for these people, Korg. I need you to look after them, make sure they all stay healthy, and happy, and safe, until we return with Thanos’ head in a bag.”

“Um - yeah - you might want to _not_ bring his head back though, because that will really start to smell in a few days. Trust me - I had some vartakian meat once and Mum told me to put it in the fridge and I didn’t, and I tell you what, after just a day it smelt so bad I had to—”

“Yes - yes - I understand,” Loki said hastily. “Can you do that, Korg? For me? For all these people? Can you look after them until we return?”

“I can try,” he said quietly. “But hey, I’m not you, Loki. I don’t know how to stop them arguing or how to tell them stuff so they listen, or how to keep them not fighting and everything until you get back.” He paused. “You sure you picked the right man?”

“Yes,” Loki said firmly, “I am very sure. “Everyone here listens to you, Korg. Everyone here knows you only want what’s best for them. That’s two things you have over everyone else on the ship.”

“But… what do I do?”

“You do whatever you think needs to be done, no matter how difficult, to make sure these people are looked after and protected.”

“Right,” he nodded. “And how do I do that?”

Loki let his hand drop. “Well… You could start by thinking to yourself ‘what would Loki do?’, and then thinking if it would work for you. Ok?” he asked brightly.

“Yeah, gotcha. So I could sleep in the Grand Master’s old place?”

“Of course,” he said. “Get up there, kick out anyone in your way, and make it _your_ place. However I’d clean it first. —With bleach.”

“Oh yeah. All those parties, right?’

“Something like that.”

Korg straightened up. “Ok then. I’m exited by this promotion. I hope I’ll make you proud, man.”

“I’m sure you will.” The two of them walked toward the groups of people still rejoicing in the open air. “Everyone!” Loki called. “We have some news about the next phase of the plan.”

 

. . .

 

Valkyrie shielded her eyes against the sun. The warm breeze stroked her face as she took in the happy Asgardians hand-washing clothes, setting up stones to make barbecue pits, laughing and joking.

She came to a round structure made of what looked like stone stanchions, the walls made of layer upon layer of thick cloth. She put a hand out and swept what she guessed to be the entrance curtain to one side, looking through. “This better be good,” she announced. “All I’ve had to eat is a whole leg of ham - and I _still_ need a proper bath.”

Loki looked up from the wooden table in the middle of the room and leant back in his chair. “A war meeting, nothing more. Then we all rest for the night. We find Thanos in the morning.”

Valkyrie looked at Angela, then Amora, also at the table. “Why wait?”

“We all need to rest,” Amora said. “Besides, it’s part of the plan.”

“What plan?” she asked suspiciously. She stalked over to the table and sat, finding herself between the other two women.

“The plan I will tell you about in the morning,” Loki said smoothly.

“You don’t have one, do you?” Valkyrie shot back. “You _promised_ all those people, Loki - and now you’ve got nothing!”

His put his palms up in an appeal for calm. “I have one. I just need time to refine it, and I can’t do that with you three picking at it before it’s ready.”

“Hmm.” She looked at Amora. “And you’re ok with him doing the plan?”

“Mostly,” she admitted.

“It will suffice,” Angela said wearily.

“‘Suffice’?” Loki spluttered. “You wound me, Angela. Of all of us I’m the most suited to coming up with an ingenious way to ambush Thanos so that he doesn’t expect us, _and_ devise a way to wrest the stone from him. And - please - do raise your hand if you’ve actually _met_ him?” He put his hand up, the movement accompanied by a petulant jaw-jut. “Anyone? Anyone? Oh, just me then.”

“All good points,” Angela said.

Loki let his hand drop. “ _Thank_ you.”

“Are we done?” Valkyrie asked. “You brought me all the way from good food for this thirty-second conversation?”

“And to tell you to assemble by the ship at first light,” Loki said. “Then we’re leaving - Amora will see to that, which is why we need her rested and recharged by tomorrow.” He levelled a distinctly stern gaze at the sorceress. “The ‘recharged’ part being of particular importance.”

“I heard,” she snapped. She got up and glanced at Valkyrie. “Baths and clothes await.” She walked out of the room.

Valkyrie got to her feet, trying to do it slowly. “So… first light, yeah?” She disappeared under the curtain.

Loki sat back and folded his arms, clearly put out.

Angela raised her eyebrows at him. “What did you expect?”

“A little more faith, to be honest. All they do is go on about how I’m this evil schemer - and then when I offer to come up with an evil scheme that suits their purpose they denigrate and resist me.”

She got up. “We all need rest. That ship air was not good, and we have now a chance to feast and sharpen our blades.”

“Quite.” He stood, pushing his chair in.

“But you do have a plan.”

He glared at her. “Yes! Yes I have a plan! Leave the scheming to me, you dense-brained warrior! This is why you were never made General of Odin’s armies!”

She lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat. He was swung easily off his feet and straight into the stone post behind him. He grunted in pain and shock. His hands grabbed her wrist and he spluttered for air. “Have a care, Laufeyjarson,” she said, her voice a low growl. “I was never made General because I questioned orders instead of blindly following them. I was never made General because I tried to veto Odin’s use of the Valkyrie against Hela’s first strike on Asgard. You do not get to talk down to me, little man.”

He dragged in air. “Weak,” he spat. “You were weak! I’ve read the histories now! You should have led the charge against Hela!”

She pressed him back harder, gripped his throat tighter, sending black spots into his vision. “You dare!”

“Because - you—” He sucked in air, struggled to breathe. His eyes rolled. “You - would have - have won!”

“What?”

His eyes squeezed shut, his boots dangling a foot off the floor, he concentrated on air. “You would have - would have - beaten her!”

“Manipulative weasel!”

Something flashed.

She had a second to realise the cold, hard press of a blade against the side of her throat. She smiled, her grip weakening slightly. “Impressive.”

“So is this - this lift,” he managed.

“Well you are easy to pick up.”

His eyes popped open. “How dare you. I have standards.”

“Does this change them?” she asked, squeezing slightly.

He gasped in air. His dagger at her neck slid just a tad. She felt it break skin and grinned, letting her hand loosen again.

“Don’t pretend,” he rasped, “that you’re not enjoying this.”

“What can I say - you make my hands slip.”

“And you my blade.”

“Trade that weapon for another and I’ll let you down.”

“Let me down and this is over.”

“Kinky.”

“ _Interesting_.”

Her hand gave just a little, and his dagger drew back from her skin - but it hovered close. “Where do we go from here?”

Loki eyed her for a long moment. “You’re fast, and you’re strong - I’ll give you that,” he said. Then he unleashed a bright, sly smile that made her breath catch in her throat. “But you have to know I’d win. Let me down.”

“You are boring, God of Mischief.” She looked his smile over with intent. “I could twist you in so many ways.”

“Oh really? If anyone’s good at bending others to their will, it’s _me_.”

“Is that a challenge?”

His smile vanished and now his face jerked forward in defiance. “Is it?”

She took in his red cheeks, the shiny, piqued delight in his eyes, the need to prove his superiority by any means. She let him dangle much closer to the floor. Her face came closer.

He grinned. His dagger drew back. It stabbed forward.

Her hand went up and simply blocked it. The blade ran through her skin, between her bones, to jam right through her palm up to its hilt.

Loki gasped in shock. His face dropped. “You were supposed to—”

She kissed him. Surprising even himself, he kissed her back. Until she dragged her lips free and instead set teeth into his neck. Making a noise of enjoyment that he would later pretend was more planned that it was, he dragged his dagger free and dropped it. It fell to the dirt floor of the tiny hut-like structure as she let him down to his feet.

His hand went into her hair and yanked toward him. As they kissed with all their strength she grasped at the side toggle of the leather over his chest. He pulled and yanked at the tabard over her armour; it ripped and dropped. He scrabbled to release her armour and chainmail as she clamped his face to hers with nails that bit into his jaw. She pushed him free but moaned at the sudden feel of his lips behind her ear, down her neck - and then her chainmail slid free.

She yanked at the simple black shirt she found under his leather armour; it fell by hers in the middle of the room. He lifted her thin beige top and guided it off over her head. She reached for him. He didn’t hesitate; his hands went round her throat to swing her down to her knees. He towered over her as his mouth aimed for hers.

She let him kiss her - and then she grabbed his arm and flipped him right over. He landed heavily on his back in the dirt. Before he could get breath back she straddled him. Her hands went to the fastenings on his trousers even as he grabbed for her thighs either side of him, dragging her closer. She ripped the trousers open but he pushed her up and over. She was trapped beneath him but she kissed him, catching him off guard. One hand yanked at his backside, the other grabbed him by the throat. He wrapped both of his hands round her neck. They pulled and struggled, fighting for the top.

“Challenge accepted,” he growled.

She grinned.

 


	6. Best Served Cold

 

 

Amora relaxed back in the large, round bath, sighing with complete contentment. The hot water lapped at her collarbones and she spread her arms along the edge, letting her head fall back to the towel piled high for just that purpose.

“Feel better?” Valkyrie asked smugly from the other side.

“Absolutely,” Amora sighed. “You?”

“It had been a while.”

“Well I was in Asgard’s dungeon for… I don’t know… aeons.” She let her eyes close. “How long has it been since you had that much fun?”

“Before Hela attacked.”

Amora looked up. “I’m sorry. I thought we had lost _all_ the Valkyrie in that attack.” She paused. “Was there a special someone for you?”

“Yes. And she’s been dead so long…” Valkyrie turned in the water to stretch for a bottle sitting by the edge. She pushed herself across the bath to be in front of Amora. “Just because we’ve had this time together doesn’t mean I won’t kill you if you betray all those Asgardians waiting for us to kill Thanos.”

Amora smiled. She took the bottle from her, taking a swig before handing it back. “My dear, I have killed so many people who, like Thanos, thought they were somebody. He will be no different. We all have our reasons for revenge. He has destroyed half of the Ragnarok survivors - and that’s not ok. I have no intention of doing anything but killing the soulless scum. Well, that and possibly severing his head and peeing in an eye socket or two.”

Valkyrie grinned. “Nice.”

“I just hope Loki is as good at plans as he says he is.”

“I think he might be,” Valkyrie said, her smile dying.

“Do you think he’s planning as we speak?” she asked slyly. “It’s almost evening.”

“Oh I’m sure he’s hard at it. With someone, somewhere.”

Amora looked at her - and then laughed. Valkyrie took a swig from the bottle then passed it to Amora. She took a drink but then Valkyrie rescued the bottle from her for another drink herself. Then she came closer to reach over Amora’s shoulder, setting the bottle on the stone side.

Amora put a hand through her hair. “You are so beautiful,” she said quietly.

“And it’s been too long,” Valkyrie grinned, pushing herself closer.

 

. . .

 

The soft mattress bounced and flexed as Korg rolled to sit up. He stretched, threw his large feet over the edge, and made it to a standing position. He went to the curtain, currently serving as a makeshift door to his tiny hut. He swished it to one side and smiled. “Ah, now that’s nice,” he said, his hands on his hips.

Sun was just eking over the horizon, just starting to make it over the hills in the distance, to hit the sides of huts and the much taller side of the ship a few hundred feet away. He trudged outside and went to the large water butt with a ladle in the top. Helping himself to a drink, then looking around at the damp morning ground around him, he stretched a little more before going to the ship.

He smoothed a hand down the outside, appreciating it, before he turned and looked at the groups of huts that had been taken over or added to, or in some cases built, as they had arrived just the day before.

“Well, he said he’d be in the biggest hut and first light was go time,” he said happily.

He made his way through the huts until he realised the one right in front of him was much larger than the rest.

“This must be it.” He put a hand out and swept the curtain to one side, marching in. He had to stop as he found a large wooden table on its side by the far cloth wall, chairs scattered around, toppled over, and one of them even broken.

“Aw man - must have been some kind of fight,” he breathed. “Loki? Are you in here, man? You ok?” he called.

Something stirred behind the table. The sounds of creaking wood, possibly broken glass, and then a very fuzzy ‘mmm’ emanated from behind the barrier.

Korg strode over and put his hand to the wood to move it. He found Loki on his back on the floor, some kind of shiny armour under his left shoulder, cuts and burgeoning bruises to his face, his chest, his arms - and wearing nothing but his black boots.

“Oh crack my rocks,” Korg protested, shielding his eyes. “Where are your pants? You’re all thin and gangly and squishy and so not like a pile of rocks!”

“Who’s—?” Loki opened an eye, finding himself splayed out on the ground, one knee up and over a broken chair leg. “Ow - ow - ow,” he gasped, putting his left hand up over his shoulder and dragging the armour out of the way. He laid flat in the dirt, grateful for some comfort. “Oh bilgesnipe’s balls,” he heaved.

“You may leave,” came a stern female voice.

Loki’s eyes went very round very quickly. He shot upright, sitting in complete worry. “Korg,” he said quickly. “You’ve woken me - _thank_ you - and I’ll meet you by the ship.”

“Oh, ok,” Korg said. “Wait - how did you do that lady voice?”

“I have many skills,” Loki shot back.

“Yeah, true.”

“Off you go then. I’ll meet you at the ship.”

“You might want to put some pants on first,” Korg ventured. “I mean I’m pretty easy-going but some people don’t like to see that before breakfast, you know what I mean?”

“I can assure you I will find my trousers before I leave this tent. Now go.”

“Ok. See you.” Korg turned and walked out.

Loki heaved a gigantic sigh of relief and lay back down in the dirt. He stared at the cloth ceiling. “Please say that’s Angela,” he announced.

“Well of course it’s me.”

He heard movement and then she appeared from around the other side of the table, wrapped tastefully in something long and green. “Is that mine?” he frowned.

She walked around to his side, looking down at him. “You can have it back now.” She peeled it off to reveal it was indeed his cape - and also that it had been her only clothing. She dropped it in his face.

He spluttered and blew material and dust from his mouth as he sat back up. “Thank you, I’m sure.”

She crouched, putting a hand out and sweeping his hair back to straighten it from the crazy maelstrom it was currently in. He froze in surprise, before turning to look at her. She smiled. “People say you exaggerate,” she mused. Her hand went out and pinched at his chin. “You do not.”

“Uh - thanks?” he hazarded.

She got up and he watched her walk away with the grace of a trained fighter. Abruptly he caught himself almost admiring her. Then he shook himself and made every effort to stand up. “Uh - we need clothes.”

“Yes. And we also need to make sure that Kronan does not spread news of this to everyone in a fifty-mile radius.”

“I was going to say the same to you,” he said. “But then I thought you’d hit me for implying I was embarrassed about being found with you.”

“No,” she said dismissively, locating her beige top at least. She straightened with it in her hand and found him watching her. “It would be foolhardy to let people think their leader had intimate relations with one of their warriors.”

“Quite,” he said with a whimsical smile. “Wait - are _you_ embarrassed about being found with _me_?”

“What do you think?”

“But are you though?” he asked, stepping over broken furniture to cross the room to her.

“Does it matter?”

“Well… yes.”

“No.”

“No you’re not embarrassed or no it doesn’t matter?” he asked, confused.

“What?”

“What ‘what’? I asked you a simple question.”

She grinned, putting a hand to his face and smoothing it over the cuts and scratches. He didn’t flinch at the stinging pain it caused. “So needy, Laufeyjarson. So… lonely.”

He took a step back, breaking her connection and looking around for his trousers. “I am _not_ needy. I was just worried I had hurt your feelings.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Since when do you care about anyone else’s feelings?”

He straightened up and she folded her arms, still holding onto her top. “Ok, fine. I don’t care,” he said coldly, “most of last night to the contrary.”

Her smile faded. “That is between us and no-one else,” she warned.

“Oh, trust me, I am not the type to kiss and tell.”

“Good,” she said, casting her gaze around the room. “Then let us bathe and find new clothes, and then find this Thanos.”

“That would be my first choice.”

“And when we are victorious, we shall do this again.”

“That would—. What?”

“If you want to.”

He cleared his throat, then shrugged dismissively. “Maybe.”

She smiled as she turned away. “Next time, no knives.”

“You loved it. —With _and_ without the blades.”

She grinned but refused to let him see her face. She cleared her throat. “Clothes, Laufeyjarson.”

“Clothes, Angela.”

 

. . .

 

Korg kicked in the door so hard it flew across the marvellously painted room and crashed into the other wall. “We’re in! Storm the palace my friends!” he called.

Asgardians and ex-gladiators rushed through the gap, shouting and brandishing makeshift weapons. They slowed and looked around, confused, as all they found were people standing around in party clothes and carrying drinks. Music was playing loudly from somewhere close-by.

Korg walked in, slowly to a stop. “Oh, er… hey everyone,” he said, lifting a cheerful hand and waving. Most of the people now watching him with interest waved back. “What’s - er - going on?”

A woman, tall and happy in her flowing rainbow coloured dress, smiled at him. “We’re celebrating darling - the Grand Master is in the dungeon and he’s left us all of his booze and beds!”

People laughed and clapped.

Korg nodded. “Right, so… I’m taking the Grand Master’s place and everyone here has to do as I say.”

People looked at each other, shocked. They reached for loved ones - or at least favourite acquaintances. They began to protest in fear. The music came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh no - wait - no!” he called, both hands up. “No it’s ok - we’re just here to run the place until our saviour gets back.”

“Saviour?” one woman dared.

“Yeah. Nice bloke, if a bit squishy. He’s called Loki.”

“That toad? The one in green?” another woman asked. She pushed herself free of her cowering friend. “He turns up here, gains favour with the Grand Master, unleashes hell and then escapes - and now he’s just going to saunter back in here and try to take control?” she demanded.

“Well he did say to keep you all happy and safe until he got back here,” Korg said.

“Safe from what?” she asked, her face paling.

“There’s this other bloke, see - a really really big purple one - and he ripped our ship in half and kinda killed loads of people and I think he might be coming for the rest of the universe soon,” Korg shrugged.

People looked at each other - and then began to panic.

“Wait! Wait!” Korg cried. “Loki rescued Asgard and stopped him! Don’t worry - he wants me to just look after you while he goes off and kills him for you! You’re all safe!”

People stared. Murmuring began as they talked amongst themselves.

“Hey - you!” Korg called at a slight young man standing by a window. “Get the music back on. And drinks for everyone.”

An Asgardian young gentlemen of dark skin and worried face stopped by Korg’s shoulder. “What are you doing?” he hissed from the side of his mouth.

“Well hey, I’m kinda winging it here, man. But Loki said to do what _he_ would. So we keep them happy and partying and before they know it, Loki will be back. Right?”

The man threw his hands up in the air. “Whatever.”

“See?” Korg nodded. “Where’s that music?”

The sounds of synth cheer weaved through the throng and people began to relax, began to pick up their half-forgotten drinks and began to climb down from abject fear.

Korg folded his arms. “Oh yeah,” he said cheerfully. “This will be easy.” A man walked past him and he grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, man. Do you know where the Grand Master is?”

“Oh everyone knows the way to the dungeon,” the man grinned. “But no-one ever goes there.”

“Right, well… Ok then.”

 

. . .

 

The sounds of soft-soled boots made him twitch. He sat up straight, his eyes narrowed, as he tried his hardest to identify the owner. Decades seemed to go by before, finally, a pair of black boots paused by the bars currently denying him freedom.

He smiled as he recognised the footwear. His eyes went up the dark leather until he reached the raven-black hair brushing the elaborate shoulders of the outfit. “I knew you’d come back for me,” he said smugly.

Loki turned to face the bars of the dungeon. His head tilted and he looked at the Grand Master and his seated pose of defiance. “Oh did you,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Well of course!” the Grand Master grinned. He put a hand up toward him. “I mean, I’m me after all.”

Loki smiled slowly, but it made the Grand Master uncomfortable. “What we have here,” Loki said cheerfully, “is a misunderstanding.”

“Yes! Yes! Of course!” he cried. He grinned again. “You never meant to desert me and steal my ship, and I never meant to let all the prisoners with jobs put me in here. You know I _do_ forgive you.”

“No no,” Loki said dismissively. “Let me just…” He stood back, his palms up as he appraised the entire vision before him. “Let me just enjoy this.”

“Enjoy what? What’s to enjoy? You’ve come to get me out, right?”

“Oh no,” he grinned. “I’m here to gloat. I’m here to revel in just how completely the tables have turned.”

The Grand Master’s face dropped. “What?”

“It’s quite simple,” Loki said, his voice made of honey. “I’m here, and you’re there… It’s _almost_ like the first time we met, do you remember?”

“Yes - yes I do, and I remember seeing something special in you, boy, and I took pity on you, do _you_ remember?”

Loki’s smile morphed into a face made of bared teeth and barely-contained anger. “I remember you thinking I was only good for entertaining you.”

“And you did! You were _marvellous!_ ” the Grand Master grinned. “That’s why I let you into my inner sanctum - the parties, the orgies, the whole thing! You were so much _fun_. So feisty.” He put a hand up and pawed the air. “Roowwrr,” he mock-growled.

Loki straightened up, squared his shoulders. He resisted the urge to pull his leather collar straight. “Offer me anything to let you out.”

“What?”

“You want to get out of here, don’t you? What will you do - _for me_ \- to convince me to let you out?”

“Oh I see,” the Grand Master grinned. “It’s like that, is it? I knew you came back because you liked me. A special bond - that’s what we have.” He pressed his hands together, thinking. “Well… I will… do… anything you like. You know, the front thing, the back thing, the upside down one with the sliced pineapples.”

Loki smiled, his eyes on the floor between them, nodding.

“See?” he grinned. “Done deal, right?” He got up off the floor. “So. Here we are. Letting me out of here. Yep… any minute now,” he said, rubbing his hands.

Loki did not move.

“Because… I can do you favours, like, well, like you did for me.”

Still, Loki did not move.

The Grand Master felt some kind of cold tickle at his spine. “Uh… Ok, not pineapples. What was it you… Oh! I know! The kabarka fruit, right? That was what you liked - ribbed, right? For more fun?”

Loki just watched.

“Ok - how about money,” the Grand Master said. “I can be your slave for a day - _two_ days - I mean who wouldn’t want that? All this? All me? And it can be yours for two days.” He realised Loki was not smiling. “—And on top of that there’s money in the treasury. Real money. You like money, right? So… here we go, now. Letting me out. Just - reaching for that lock. Aren’t you, though? Reaching. For the lock. With your hand, there.” His eyes went from Loki to the lock on the bars and back again. And again.

Loki walked closer to the bars. “Here’s the thing,” he said pleasantly. “There are some elements of us two that, yes, are astonishingly alike - except you’re in there, and I’m out here. You’re offering me all kinds of things for your freedom, and all I have to do is be like you and take them. That’s all.”

“Yes! Ok, so how fast can we get this lock opened because—”

Loki lifted an index finger. The Grand Master stopped short. Loki cleared this throat, took a calming breath. “I’m not going to take them. I have no intention of letting you out. And do you know why?”

The Grand Master put a hand to his own chest, his mouth falling open. “What? Why would you not let me out? I mean I’m the handsome one here, the clever one, the one with all the—”

Loki dragged in a breath and his fists balled. “ _Oh do you ever stop talking!_ ” he hurled at full volume.

The Grand Master fell silent.

Loki huffed, then took in a deep breath and let it out with the patience of ages. “Listen to me, _former_ Grand Master. I am not letting you out. I am not here to help you.” He took a step closer to the bars. “Let me be very, _very_ clear. The days of you owning me are over. I came here to see you suffering, as I suffered. And when I walk away and you shout for me to forgive you, I shall smile, and enjoy the sound of you begging. And then I will leave you to the people of this planet. It’s up to them what happens to you now.”

The Grand Master stood, his mouth hanging wide in shock. “Wh-what?”

“You crave attention, and adulation, and being the focal point of everyone’s efforts.” He waved his hands out. “Enjoy your solitude, forgotten and unloved.” He turned and walked away.

“You come back here, boy! I owned you once, I can do again!” he shouted.

Loki stopped dead.

“Ha! See!” the Grand Master shouted. “You know it, too!”

Loki backed up, retracing his steps. He did not turn, did not look at him. But his right arm went out straight, his hand open as if throwing something.

The Grand Master turned, expecting something to be on the ground behind him. But there was nothing.

Loki, his eyes still straight ahead, walked off.

The Grand Master frowned in consternation. He turned around and leant on the bars with his back, folding his arms and trying to think.

A low hiss caught his attention. Something poked out from under the prison cot and he realised it was long and green - and had sharp teeth.

“Ooh, a snake!” he grinned. “I _love_ snakes. Come here, little fella, let’s see you.”

Loki paused by the sharp bend in the corridor. He listened, his eyes burning with hatred and pure anger.

“Aw, aren’t you adorable,” went the Grand Master’s voice. “What do you have there—” Something metal hit bigger metal. “Ow! What the—. How can you even hold that? You have no hands!” The sound of scraping furniture, of hurried feet. “Ahh! No! Ouch! Stop that! Where did you get a blade! Ow! Ah! Stop! Please!”

Loki stood there for a long time, listening to the sounds of fear, of horror, of weary acceptance, and then humiliation and begging.

He smiled. And as the sounds continued, he walked away.

 

 


	7. Recharge

 

Loki stood by the open ramp to the ship. He put a hand up and pulled at the collar of his leathers, trying to make them lie more flat and himself look less like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

“Odin’s beard,” came a chuckle. “What in all the realms happened to you last night?”

He turned to find Valkyrie approaching, curiously bereft of a bottle and dressed in borrowed Sakaar clothes. Off-white and very becoming, the matching sleeveless top and leather trousers certainly suited her. “That is none of your concern,” he said tightly.

“Honestly, I hope you won. If you managed to walk away looking like that then the other guy must be dead,” she said, stopping by him and folding her arms. “And what happened to your _face_?”

He opened his mouth but another voice came at him from behind. “Something even _he_ could not talk his way out of.”

He didn’t even have to turn to know it was Amora. “I wasn’t going to mention how you two ladies took great care to arrive from different angles, but that you both smell of the same soap and perfume,” he said snidely. “Not to mention I believe you got dressed in such a hurry that Valkyrie has forgotten to hide _all_ her daggers from view.” He turned back to her and plucked it from down the deep V of her top. “Or were you two playing ‘what’s in the bag?’ and Amora missed her prize but found two better ones?”

Valkyrie growled and wielded a fist at him. He grabbed her forearm to keep it from damaging him. She fumed.

He grinned a sly approximation of amusement. “Now now,” he said, his voice dripping honey. “Let’s all forget how much we don’t like each other and get on with this, shall we?”

“Save it for Thanos,” Amora added, albeit quietly.

“There’s plenty enough to go round,” Valkyrie bit out. She looked back at Loki. “Watch your tongue, not-Asgardian.”

He let go deliberately and she stepped back. “Right. Now I have to retrieve something from the ship and then we can run through the plan. In the next few hours this may all be over.”

“Where’s Angela?” Valkyrie asked suspiciously.

“Getting her hand stitched up,” Loki said dismissively. “Now can we—”

“Stitched up?” Valkyrie demanded. “Is she ok? She has to fight with us.”

“And she will,” Loki said wearily. “It was a flesh wound.”

Valkyrie opened her mouth but Amora raised a hand at her. She made her question die on her lips as Amora took a step closer to Loki. “And how did she suffer this flesh wound, Loki Laufeyjarson?” she asked knowingly.

“You’d have to ask her,” he said evenly.

Amora appraised him for a long moment. He simply raised his eyebrows at her.

Eventually she looked over his shoulder to Valkyrie. “He doesn’t know,” she said in a bored tone. “Let’s get a drink while he gets his toys from the ship.”

“It won’t take _that_ long,” he said. “Can we just focus instead of drinking ourselves into a stupor mere hours before fighting a mad Titan with two Infinity Stones?”

Amora’s head tilted but Valkyrie rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “Hurry.”

Loki inclined his head and disappeared up the ramp.

The two women waited. And waited. They turned as they heard someone else approaching.

“Morning,” Angela said, her right hand around the bright white bandage of her left palm. She stopped by them, looking around. “Where’s the weasel?”

“Getting something from the ship,” Amora said, looking her up and down. Angela’s chainmail and armour were intact, but her tabard was gone. “You seem… _used_.”

“I am,” Angela shrugged.

“Your hand,” Valkyrie said, gesturing to the bandage. “What happened to it?”

“I got stabbed. However, I won the fight.”

“You got into a fight?” Amora asked. “Why am I not surprised?”

Valkyrie smiled and then the three of them turned as they heard boots coming down the ramp to the ship.

Loki made it to the grass but his hands were empty.

“Well?” Amora asked. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Oh yes,” he said, immensely pleased.

“What is it?” Amora asked.

“It’s part of the plan,” he said. “Shall we discuss how to kill Thanos now?”

 

. . .

 

Amora was standing straight, her hands out palm up, her eyes closed, concentrating. Angela, Valkyrie and Loki watched, but while the two women appeared fascinated, Loki seemed more interested in grabbing the collar of his leathers and pulling them straight.

Angela put a hand up and knocked his from its ministrations. “Stop that.”

“It chafes.”

“Then don’t wear it,” she countered.

He opened his mouth but Valkyrie turned wearily. “Will you two shut up?” she heaved. “All you’ve done since Amora’s been charging up to get us anywhere is argue.”

“They enjoy it,” Amora murmured.

“I most certainly do not,” Loki snapped. “How long is this going to take? You said we’d be there in a few seconds.”

“The destination… is not quite… even,” she muttered.

“Then make it even. You _can_ do that, can’t you?” he asked.

Suddenly everything was gone. No Sakaar, no grass, no breeze - no _sun_.

Everyone kept very still.

And abruptly it was bright again.

But… not.

“Ah,” Loki said, apparently pleased. “Perfect.”

“ _Shit_ it’s cold,” Valkyrie protested, looking around. Her hand went to the hilt of her sword as she turned and surveyed the frozen wastes, the howling winds full of snow and ice. “Is this…?”

“Jotunheim as ordered,” Amora said, letting her hands drop. “You’re welcome.”

“Why here?” Valkyrie asked. “I thought the plan was to head to Knowhere and kill Thanos.”

“And we will,” Loki said. “First I need to recharge a weapon.”

“What weapon?” Valkyrie asked. She looked him over. “I don’t even want to know where you’re hiding it.”

He lifted his hands and simply whisked them round in a circle as if shining a bowling ball. A blue and black box, nearly two feet wide, blinked into view and he raised it slightly. “This.”

“The winter casket?” Amora asked. “How will that help?”

“This can freeze _anything_ ,” he said. “It will slow Thanos down so we can attack.”

“Fair enough,” Valkyrie shrugged. “So how does it work? What, do we plug it in somewhere? How long does it need to recharge?”

“Less than an hour,” he said. His hands moved again and it was gone. “You can stay here or you can watch me take it down to the lake.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Amora said, “I’ll stay here.” She looked to her left. “There are caves over there. I’ll be where it’s slightly warmer than out in the open.”

“Well I’m not leaving our only lift out of here all by herself,” Valkyrie said. “I’ll come with you.”

“Of course,” Loki said, mostly to himself. He turned to go. “Be ready when I get back. Remember Amora - no Loki with winter casket, no Infinity Stone for you. Don’t leave me here.”

She smiled. “Why, it’s almost as if you don’t trust me.”

“Yes, isn’t it,” he said, but it wasn’t a question.

“I will accompany you,” Angela announced.

Loki looked at her - just looked.

She glanced at the other two women before fixing Loki with a guarded look. “You may be from here but they cast you out. I will protect the winter casket until it is recharged and back with the group.”

“How very thoughtful,” he said with a frown. He turned and trudged off.

The three women shared a smile. “We will await you here,” Amora said.

“Do not freeze,” Angela nodded.

Amora smiled. “Oh I’m sure we can find something to do to keep us warm.”

Angela nodded again, blatantly understanding nothing, and turned and walked off.

Valkyrie took a step as if to follow her, but then stopped. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”

“If they don’t argue each other to death or kill each other in hand to hand combat, they’ll be absolutely fine,” she grinned. “Now - cave and shelter.”

 

. . .

 

Korg waved a hand to try to shush the protesting crowd. “Well of course you can have strippers,” he said. “But it doesn’t sound very fair if you don’t pay them proper money. Sounds a bit like… slaves.” He paused. “No - they have to be paid at least minimum wage and you can’t touch them.”

“What? Then they’re not strippers!” came a voice.

He made himself stand taller, and then his hands went to his hips. He thought madly for a second; _What would Loki do?_ Inspiration hit him and he raised one finger in anger. He noticed people stand back and, spurred on by this new-found respect, he nodded. “Well that’s kinda what they are - _strippers_. All they do is strip - the clue is literally in the title. Now you gotta let them do their job and you gotta pay them well for it - they’re like professional experts, right? And then you will let them leave, all above-board and with their clothes, man. If they decide to stay on after the performance, that makes them off-duty and you gotta treat them like the contributing members of society that they are. Everyone ok with that?”

People shared glances, then began to shrug. Voices muttered to each other within the party-goers:

“Yeah - seems reasonable.”

“Sounds ok.”

“Even logical, if you ask me.”

“But… who checks their pay?”

Korg raised his hands. “We need like a union or something.” He looked at a man standing by the wall. “You there - what do you do round here, man?”

He pointed at himself, and Korg nodded. The man cleared his throat. “Uh… I used to count gate money. For the gladiator fights.”

Korg smiled. “Perfect. So now you’re going to set up a union for all strippers on Sakaar - and joining is free, ok?”

“But… I’m not—”

“Hey man - I said I was in charge, right?” Korg said.

“Uh… yes. But—”

“Great,” he said, clapping his large hands together. “Off you go - get it done.”

“Uh - ok,” the man said, a little blearily. He put his drink down and walked off.

Korg nodded. “There, see? I told you this would be easy.”

“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” someone called.

“Not me,” Korg said. “This is what Loki would have done.” People grinned and he clapped his hands. “Ok, bring out the strippers!”

The music went louder. The people laughed harder.

And Korg stood by and watched, a feeling of pride welling in his chest.

 

. . .

 

Loki found it surprisingly easy to stride through the snowy winds and icy blasts that looked like they were going straight through Angela and taking all of her body heat with them. He looked back, then again. “Can you keep up?” he called.

“Just keep walking, little man,” she called back. “I shall not be far behind.”

He muttered something under his breath but something made his feet slow just slightly.

They came over a small rise and below found a perfect mirror made of ice, at least a hundred yards across. He stopped and smiled. “There, see? We can recharge it there.”

She did not stop, simply walking past him down the slight incline. “You mean _you_ can recharge it. I have no idea how it works.”

He followed her down to the shore and they stopped at the edge. “Angela dear, would you be so kind as to break some surface ice for me?”

She unsheathed a short broad sword from her back and swung it down to point the tip into the bank. “How much water do you need?”

“Enough for me to jump into.”

“Are you mad?” she demanded, turning on him.

He took a defensive step back and put a palm up for calm, a nervous smile erupting over his face. “Not as such, no.”

“You will freeze if you jump in that water.”

“ _I_ won’t,” he said pointedly. “Anyway, what do you care? You’re here to protect the winter casket, you said.”

“Yes,” she said firmly, stepping back. “That is all.” She appraised the dark looking ice before walking out over it, hearing not a single click or creak of failure. She lifted her sword and jammed it in the surface. It splintered but did not break. She ripped it free, then slammed it down again, then again. This time chunks came free as she withdrew the sword. She swung it round and chopped at the edges until she had made a sizeable hole. She stepped back onto the bank and waved a hand at the aperture. “Do as you will.”

“Oh but I do,” he said, rolling his hands and producing the casket. He set it down on the bank and then unlatched the leather of his top, opening it up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, before hastily looking around for spies.

“Well I’m not jumping in with all this on,” he scoffed. “Besides, I’ll need something warm and dry when I get out. I may not freeze as fast as you but I will certainly feel the cold.”

“Loki…” She paused.

He did not. He simply pulled off the heavy top and his boots, leaving them on the bank and his already smarting toes in the snowy surface. He thought about it and then pulled off the black cotton top for good measure.

She noticed the still-fresh scratches and bruises on his chest and arms and made her eyes go to the hole in the ice. “Loki… Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly. “It cannot be for Asgard, and it cannot be for your brother. What else do you have?”

“Do you know,” he said conversationally, “I have asked myself that question a lot lately.” He looked up at the snowy sky. “I once teased Thor about motivation - I said he’d gone soft on Midgard, fell in love with one of its wretched beings and that had turned him into a feeler instead of a fighter.”

“And you?”

“I’m still a fighter, Angela,” he said quietly. “And I certainly don’t have any love for Midgard, or their tiny-minded indigenous occupants. No, I have something much better to fight for.”

“What is that?”

He bent down and picked up the casket, edging up to the hole and looking down. “Revenge. Thanos owes me more than you could know.”

He looked at her, unleashed a perfectly devious smile, and then jumped feet-first through the gap.

She rushed up to the edge. She peered down but the black, near-freezing water was churning with his entrance. Her sword tip went into the frozen surface next to her foot and she went down on one knee, an elbow resting there to keep her up.

She watched. She waited.

 

 


	8. Get Some

 

Angela detected some kind of noise and refocused her eyes on the hole in the ice. It began to move and churn. She got up hastily and moved back as something sent water over the edges. A hand appeared and she moved to grab it. It lifted and waved a single index finger at her.

She stood back, surprised, as the hand then disappeared. The casket was shoved up and out of the hole, and then two bright blue hands appeared and scrabbled for purchase. A head and a deluge of near-freezing water accompanied Loki’s climb out of the gap. He slipped and landed on the ice, and seemed to content to stay spread-eagled on the freezing surface on his back.

“You look like your mother,” she remarked.

Loki sat up slowly, breathing hard and lifting a hand to look at it. He realised he was completely blue, slight lines and traces of silver flowing under the surface of his skin as his blood sought to decide how best to regulate temperature. “I… suppose I do.”

She pulled her armour straight and glanced at the bank. She found a lump of ice, presumably over a rock, and sat herself down. “Does it bother you?”

“Not as much as it used to.” He stood up, shaking his wet hair out and then trying to squeeze water out of the end. She watched, fascinated, as parts of his chest began to appear less blue and more dull white/beige.

“Do you… make it do that? Change colour? How does it work?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “For the longest time I didn’t know I was doing it,” he said. “I suppose that was why it was so easy for Frigga to teach me all kinds of illusions. Until I was touched by a frost giant, in this very land, I had no idea I was even supposed to _be_ blue.”

She shook her head. “I do not know what a revelation like that would do to me,” she said quietly. She squinted up at him. “You are not what people think you are.”

“Evidently,” he said, spreading his hands in a mock-bow.

She smiled as a ripple went over his skin and the blue was gone. “But… when you touch frost giants you can receive terrible freeze-burns.”

“Yes.”

“And yet… I am not burnt.”

He tilted his head. “I have wondered about that.”

“Perhaps it was will. After all, the ability to inflict pain on someone else is a choice. You said you were young when adopted - you did not know the people who were raising you, as no child does, but on some level you liked it. So you knew not to hurt them.”

He frowned at her, from across the ice. “Interesting.” Then he shook his head. “I had thought it was why my real parents left me out to die; I was a weakling, a runt, barely worth the blanket they had dumped me in. Perhaps I have _always_ been defective.”

“You must not entertain such thoughts,” she said sternly. He blinked in surprise. She stood. “You are not defective, Loki. You have overcome many setbacks. And now you will stop a tyrant and save a universe.”

“With… your help, of course,” he said curiously.

She nodded, some of the anger draining from her face. “Yes.”

He smiled, wagging a finger at her. “I never asked you why _you’re_ doing this.”

“For the fight,” she said innocently.

“You could have any fight, anywhere, with anyone,” he countered. He picked up the casket and crossed the ice to be back on the bank. “Why this one?”

“If Thanos is not killed, there may _be_ no other fight.”

“Point taken.”

“Besides, you need me.”

“What?” he laughed. “I need _no-one_.”

Her face hardened. “Then do this alone,” she said stiffly, turning to go.

He whisked his hands around and the casket disappeared. “Now wait a minute—”

“If you do not need anyone, then do this alone,” she snapped.

He grabbed her elbow. She yanked it free but turned on him. He lifted one elbow to block the strike he knew was coming. It didn’t - but it was too late. He had already let fly with the other fist.

She was smacked straight in the face. She staggered and put a hand to her jaw. Her head whipped around to glare at him.

He put both hands up in a stopping gesture. His face opened up in an innocent petition for understanding, his eyes large, pleading pools of which a starving cat would have been proud. “Now… Angela… we both know I misjudged that situation.” He gave a nervous laugh. “It was all me - all my mistake. But you have to understand, most people punch me first and ask questions lat—”

She leapt at him with a growl. He was struck in the stomach with her shoulder as she tackled him to the bank. Her hand went round his neck.

“We - really don’t - have time for - for sport!” he spluttered. He grunted in effort as he shoved her off. She rolled and grabbed his arm as she went; he was slammed face down in the snow.

She straddled his back, locking his arm up his back between them, making him squirm and cry out in pain. “So pretty, so slender,” she breathed, bending over him to bring her mouth to his right ear. “But you are no match for me. We have already proven this.”

He coughed around an evil grin. “Oh have we.” He jerked his shoulder, shoved back with his hip.

She went over sideways. As she attempted to roll on impact he threw himself back. He landed on top of her with his elbow in her gut. She howled in pain. He scrabbled clear and rounded on her.

She punched with all her weight. He was thrown to the ground but rolled; he was up on his feet so fast she misjudged her next punch. He shoulder-rammed her to the bank. They crashed into the snow, Loki sprawled on top of her.

He scrabbled to sit over her. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the snow above her head. She simply lay, trying to get her breath back. He grinned down at her in victory.

It made her buck. His face dropped as he tried to keep hold of her wrists. She fought one free and snatched at his hair, yanking his face down to hers. He coughed in surprise and pain. His eyes, large and on fire with the need to win, forced a grin from her. Her mouth went up and bit at his.

His hands searched for a way to free her of her armour, her chainmail. She wriggled and helped him release it. Then his hands were under her beige top, over her skin, cold and precise and hungry.

She rolled him, flattened him to the snow. He chuckled in a way that heated her just fine in the freezing air. And then his head shot up and butted hers. She was thrown up and back; the battle was joined.

He struggled and grabbed; she had hold of his throat, held him down. As she ripped open the fastening on his trousers he pushed and rammed her shoulder with his. She found herself under him and wheezed out a laugh.

“We have got to - stop - doing this,” he grunted. His hand went to her throat and squeezed.

“This is - the last time. I - I promise.” She wrapped a leg round him. He coughed out an epithet as he was pulled down.

The snow began to melt beneath them.

 

. . .

 

Amora pulled on her top, fastening it up and tossing her hair over her shoulder. “How do I look?”

“Like you haven’t just been shagging in the snow,” Valkyrie said cheekily.

She smiled. “Would you like some help with that?” She walked over and began to do up the buttons down the side of Valkyrie’s top.

“That casket should be ready by now,” she mused. “Do you think they’re already on their way back?”

“If one of them isn’t dead,” Amora chuckled. She stood back. “There.”

“Thanks.” She pulled her hair into a lazy ponytail. “You know… Angela was a little scratched up this morning. And Loki’s face—”

“He did look worse for wear, didn’t he?” Amora smiled. “I hope whatever it was hurt.”

“Don’t we all,” Valkyrie said. “But… Angela. You don’t think her and Loki—?”

Amora blew a scoffing sound through her lips. “Oh please. Not even Angela is that damaged.”

“You could be right.”

“Besides, I don’t think she’s his type.”

“Yeah - been meaning to ask you… You and Loki ever—?”

“Me? _Never_. His brother - mmm. Now there’s a different story. But Loki? No. _Really_ not my type. I wouldn’t touch that with someone else’s.”

“I can see that,” Valkyrie smiled.

Amora went to the mouth of the cave, looking out. “You know, this place isn’t _that_ bad. At some point the sun will come up properly, right? And then if the wind died down…”

“And the temperature came up, and the people were a little more welcoming.”

“I don’t see anyone,” Amora said. “I expected people to know we had arrived, to challenge us, maybe. But we haven’t seen _anyone_.”

“I assumed Loki brought us to a place no-one would notice us,” Valkyrie shrugged. “I mean he wouldn’t want to advertise his presence here any more than we do, I guess - especially if he’s nicked one of their best weapons and wants to recharge it on the quiet.”

“Hmm.”

“So when this is all over,” Valkyrie said quietly, coming to stand next to her and look out at the flurrying snow, “what are your plans?”

“Why?” Amora mused.

“Just… don’t know, really. Thought I’d see if we’d be heading in the right direction.”

Amora sighed. “I don’t think we will. Once I have an Infinity Stone… I won’t be the same person. No-one ever is. They change you - amplify thoughts, feelings. I can only imagine what that stone did to Loki.”

“Well it kind of made him try to kill a whole city on Midgard,” she said.

“I heard. I believe… it wasn’t _all_ him.”

Valkyrie shook her head. “Going soft on him?”

“Hardly. But… as I said, stones do things to people. I don’t really know this Thanos, but I know he’s an incredibly resilient being. It’s possible he’s leading the stones, not the other way around.” She paused. “I will want to do the same, but… I can’t guarantee that it won’t succeed in overpowering me. And I have a To Do List.”

“Like it overpowered Loki?”

“We’re not sure it _did_ overpower Loki. But you know what he’s like - sometimes he’s too eager to accept things are going his way, despite his deeply cynical, suspicious nature.”

“Actually I just met him like a few days before Asgard was destroyed,” she shrugged. “But he does have an ego the size of the nine realms - maybe that’s why he lets himself believe he’s winning.”

“True,” she smiled.

They watched the snow for a while, dealing with individual thoughts.

“Oh look,” Amora said quietly. “Here he comes now.”

They walked out into the snow and wind to find two figures trudging back up to them, one of them with a dark shape between their hands.

“Well?” Valkyrie called as they got close. “Can we leave now?”

Loki came to a stop in front of her. “My my, we _do_ look flushed. Been busy?” he asked with a sly smile.

Valkyrie frowned. “Not at all.” Her eyes made out a fresh cut to his face. “You?”

“Not at all.” He sniffed casually. “Why don’t we make for Knowhere. Amora?”

“Of course,” she said. She strode further out into the snow, the others trailing after her.

They formed a rough semi-circle.

“Now, is everybody ready?” Loki asked. “Once we hit Knowhere Thanos may be right in front of us.”

“He won’t be,” Amora said. “I can feel the two stones he carries - together they overshadow everything else. He’s still travelling.”

“Good,” Angela said. “Then we shall get there first, lie in wait, and cut off his bloated, conceited head.”

“And pee in the eye sockets,” Valkyrie said firmly, nudging Amora’s elbow.

She smiled but Loki looked a little aggrieved. “Disgusting,” he tutted. Then his face transformed into the widest, toothiest smile any of them had ever witnessed. “I like it.” He nodded at Amora. “Let’s go.”

She raised her hands.

. . .

 

The screams and begging caught him by surprise. As he hurried down the corridor he glanced into every dungeon cell hastily, trying to find the source.

Eventually he came upon the right room; he found the Grand Master in an over-tired, giggley, bloody heap in the corner, blankets off the cot tied around him as if he were cold.

“Hey - hey man, you ok?” Korg asked.

The man looked over, calming himself. “Oh. You there - tell him I’m sorry,” he said suavely. “I’m sorry I made him do things but he’s just so _pretty_ and he’s got a streak of naughty, naughty mischief in him as wide as a star system! You’ll tell him that, right?”

“Uh… sure,” Korg shrugged. “What happened here?”

“He set a snake on me.” He dragged himself more upright. His hands went into his hair to try to smooth it out, knowing it must have been in disarray. “A snake that for some reason had a knife.”

“Who did?”

“The green one,” the Grand Master said, his hand rolling out in some kind of dismissive gesture. “Or blue. Whatever. He was here - he did this to me. Now get me out.”

Korg looked left and right up the corridor. Then he looked back at the Grand Master. “Uh… sorry, man. Can’t do that. Rules is rules, you know?”

His happy demeanour vanished. “I _make_ the rules.”

Korg took a step back. “Well yeah - you _did_. Now it’s my turn.”

“You?” The Grand Master laughed hysterically long enough to cause the rocks in Korg’s face to band together in a rather unamused frown.

“Yeah - me. He thinks I’m good enough, and I know he’s better than you.”

“Oh really?” he giggled. “Well he set a _snake_ on me. On _purpose_. The little weasel is a manipulator, a skeevy, two-faced bargaining mouthpiece.”

“But… to manipulate, you have to get to know people, find out what makes them want stuff,” Korg said slowly. “He did something you never did. He _listened_ , man. I tell you, sometimes I don’t know why he does the things he does, but he’s stopped a mad bloke from killing half a spaceship, and he’s helped save a lot of people. He even helped stop the barbaric gladiator games here _and_ helped overthrow your little dictatorship. And he had to help his brother kill their sister to save everyone else, so I mean I don’t know, maybe he’s not so bad.”

“He’ll screw you over too,” the Grand Master said quietly. “Just you wait.”

“Then we’ll sort it out.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” the Grand Master called. “I killed the snake but I need a doctor. I’ve got like ten - twenty! - stab wounds here.”

Korg hesitated. He looked back at him. “I feel pretty bad for you right now - I do. But I also had to watch loads of friends of mine get killed and mashed up by your champion and all the other gladiators. Doug - a great fighter and a lovely singer - he had a great voice - he’s dead too. And as bad as I feel for you right now, I feel worse for Doug.” He turned to go. “So no.”

“Gah! Get back here you crappy pile of garden rockery!”

Korg hummed loudly to himself, some kind of tune he was making up as he went along.

“You! Don’t you ignore me!” the Grand Master shouted.

Korg made it to the bend in the corridor. He walked out and didn’t look back.

 

. . .

 

“Now… you will be my centrepiece, the shining jewel of my Collection of the Unfathomable…” Taneleer Tivan, known to his customers as The Collector, closed the case slowly. “Mmm. Perhaps one day someone will be able to decipher you. But until then… you are mine.” The case, happy to seal up and cause the chosen protocols to inject the enclosed space with embalming gas, simply waited for him to step back.

He did, clasping his hands together and tilting his head to admire the ragged, torn up paper book on its pedestal in the middle of the exhibit.

“Hi, hello,” came a voice.

He whirled to see a man of shoulder-length black hair and dark green leather. “Ah. Come to peruse, or to buy? I don’t think you have an appointment,” he said. He moved to his workbench.

The man smiled. “Please don’t touch that button,” he said suavely.

Tivan paused. Then he withdrew his hands from their reach to the alarm under the table.

The man raised his hands to show they were empty. “I need you to give me the security protocols to this whole place - controlling the landing alerts, the alarms, the glass cases, your vault - everything.”

“Oh but sir,” Tivan said smoothly, “I cannot do that. They are fused to me, and me alone. It would be quite impossible for me to hand over anything.”

The man walked closer. “Then… you must do something for me. One wrong move, one wrong word, and the universe as we know it could be destroyed. You wouldn’t be doing it for me. You’d be doing it for _everyone_ , _everywhere_.”

Tivan rocked on his heels, considering the man. “Who are you, sir? How did you get in here without setting off my alarms?”

He grinned. “I have many skills - and one of them is staying alive. Let me put it to you this way: if you can do what we ask, then in the next few hours you can have a very, _very_ exclusive prize for your collection as payment for your co-operation.”

“And if I do not?”

“Then, regrettably,” the man said, looking truly sad, “we will have no use for you.” He paused meaningfully, his face turning harder than vibranium. “At all.”

Tivan swayed to bring one side of his face closer to him. “Just… what _is_ this exclusive prize?”

“How does the corpse of one mad Titan sound?”

Tivan instantly popped a hand up and offered it to him to shake. “Then tell me what my part is in all this, and perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

 

 


	9. And a one, and a two, and a--

 

 

A whirling, blue mass of space and matter hurled itself into being. Tivan spun to find it behind him. “What the…”

It stopped.

And out stepped a large boot - followed by an even larger man. A mountain made mobile, the gold armour and elaborate helmet on him made Tivan’s eyes goggle.

He cleared his throat as the man approached him with thundering feet. “Uh… sir. Welcome to my gallery…”

“The stone,” Thanos said, his voice like a rockslide down a cliff face. “Where is it?”

“Which stone?” Tivan managed. He backed up one hastily. “I have many. I can show you something from my private collection, perhaps? It’s come all the way from somewhere called Blackpool. I have no idea where that is, but my sources tell me that it is somewhere in the Milky Way.”

Thanos smiled down at him, something that put more fear into the Collector. “Tiny man,” he said slowly. “You seek to distract me. Where is the Infinity Stone? The one that can remake Reality.”

“An Infinity Stone!” Tivan gasped. “Here? On my word, sir, if it is here I have no idea wh—”

“As you can see,” Thanos said, lifting his left hand and the shining gauntlet atop, “I already have two. And _they_ are telling me that you have it here. Now get it.”

“And as _you_ can see,” Tivan said, swallowing as he raised his two perfect hands, “I never do any work myself. I have servants for this. Now it’s possible one of them picked something up, telling me one thing when it was another - that has happened before. I will check with—”

Thanos used a finger and thumb to grip him by the throat. He lifted him clear off the floor. Tivan squeaked in protest but Thanos simply lifted him higher. “There is nothing to be done,” he said sadly. “There is no way out of this. There is no plan, no bargaining, no extensions. I just want the stone, ‘Collector’. And if you don’t get it right now, I shall level this entire collection of yours and make the stone come to me from the rubble. And if it has to go through you, then so be it.”

He set him down.

Tivan gasped in a breath. He put two hands up to straighten his hair out, then gulped in more air before pulling his clothes back into proper order. “It really is the maid’s day off,” he rasped.

Thanos growled and took a step forward.

Tivan put his hands up quickly. “But… I’ll see if anyone knows where it is.”

Thanos cried out in anger. He swept his arm around and simply back-handed Tivan through the air. He crashed into a far case and slid to the floor. Groaning, trying to sit up, he nursed his throat. As he spotted Thanos lifting the gauntlet, he _glared_.

 

. . .

 

Korg sat rather uncomfortably in the chair. “Why?” he heaved.

“Well… because it’s rotting where it stands,” the woman said. “It’s awful. It’s just been left there to go bad and to tell the truth - it _smells_.”

“I’m not really sure this is our problem, though,” he shrugged. “I mean if someone throws out food and leaves it to rot, it’s now up for grabs, right?”

“You’re saying you’re not going to help us?” she asked, disgusted. “But we’re rich!”

“Wait…” He got up, going to the window and looking down at the streets below. “Who’s throwing all this food out?”

“Well I don’t know!” she spluttered. “Whoever they are, make them stop!”

Korg looked over at the dark Asgardian, currently hovering on the other side of the room in the vain hope that the Kronan wouldn’t notice him. “Hey you!” he called.

The man pointed at his own face.

“Yeah, you! What’s your name?” Korg called.

He came over with the reluctance of a small furry animal approaching a larger, scaled one. “Yes?”

“What’s your name?” Korg asked again.

“Uh… Balturm,” he said.

“Ok, Dave. So this lady here says there’s food out there going to waste.”

“Uh… so? —And it’s Balturm.”

“Yesterday that guy came asking us if we had money to feed people.” He waved a hand at the window. “Maybe we could sell the food that’s going to waste, and then use that money to buy food.”

“Or,” Balturm said slowly, “maybe we could just take the thrown-out food and give it straight to people to eat?”

“Are you mad, Dave?” Korg asked. “It’ll be gone off - rotten. You want to give people rotten food? We’re not slave-gladiators now, man.”

“No,” Balturm said, shaking his head. “I meant find the source of the food and get it before it goes off. They can still dump it for free, yeah? But they dump it in special receptacles we put out for them - clean ones. Then we just redistribute it.”

Korg stared at him. And stared.

“Or… not,” Balturm managed.

“Clever,” Korg marvelled. “Hey man, you want a job? I need someone in charge of food and stuff.”

“Not really.”

“Great!” he grinned. He dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Everyone! Dave here is now in charge of food! No-one has to go hungry or beg us for it any more!”

People clapped and cheered. Balturm slapped a hand over his face and dragged it down with feeling.

Korg jiggled his shoulder in his hand. “Nice one, man. Of you go then - see to it.”

“And you’re sure this is the right thing to do?”

“Oh sure,” Korg announced, half the room bending to hear. “I mean, this is what Loki told us to do, right?”

 

. . .

 

Thanos twisted his hand, watched the two stones embedded in the glove shine and hum. He smiled. “Hmm.” He moved to his left, then his right, watching the stones. Suddenly he nodded and began to walk between the glass cases, heading for one right at the back of the room. “I should have known,” he mused, eyeing the only one with a black cloth draped over the exhibit on the inside.

He stopped in front of the case. He reached out to open it.

—And something cold, metal and shiny cleaved through the air. A female yell, an angry epithet, and Thanos found himself pushed back a few steps.

He realised with horror that he was looking at his right arm, now lying on the floor in front of the case. “What…?”

Angela landed square in her fur boots, her sword across her in a defensive position - and dripping blood. “Mad Titan,” she hissed. “Scourge of the nine realms and beyond - you will not prevail this day.”

Thanos stared, first at her, then at his arm on the floor. Shock began to fade from his face as, across the room, Tivan hastily rifled through the pockets inside his large coat.

“Who… are you?” Thanos managed.

“Angela, warrior of Asgard. You will pay for what you have done to my realm!” she cried. She hefted the blade again.

He lifted the gauntlet.

—But she sheathed the sword.

He frowned in confusion.

Tivan produced a small box and pressed the button in the centre.

Thanos paused as every glass case popped open. He frowned, hearing more and more doors open around them. He turned to see. Tiny black shapes began to mass and swarm out of them.

Angela turned and jumped on a table to the top of a case. From there she leapt; she made it to one of the structural beams running under the ceiling, swinging herself up to crouch on the metal.

Thanos swept in a circle. He surveyed the small dots now making straight for him. Something caught his eye. He looked over to see Tivan scrambling madly for a table.

He got on top and then threw himself up to safety as Angela had done. He waved cheerfully at Thanos. “Knowhere grubs,” he announced. “They strip flesh, eat it in seconds. Goodbye, would-be stone thief.”

Thanos lifted the glove. He twisted it at Tivan. He was pummelled by blue energy - but he clung onto the metal bar.

Thanos gasped and looked down. Tiny pinpricks were jabbing at his foot through many small and sudden openings in his boot. He bared his teeth and lifted his foot. It slammed down. Black beetle-shaped bugs were squished and splattered. And then his foot was encased in more - and more. They began to swarm up his calf, biting and chewing on the way. “Aaarrgh!”

He shook his feet as he turned and again made for the black cloth in the now open casket. He felt needle-sharp agony in his feet and legs, his knees beginning to buckle. But his gauntlet still reached out, still felt for the black cloth. He gripped it and yanked it free.

There, on a bed of red silk and encased in some kind of petrified tree sap that had been polished into a calming burgundy colour, was a stone. It shone and teased him from just a foot too far away.

He felt himself falling. He put his gauntleted hand down to catch himself. Blood was still pouring from the way Angela had expert sliced his right arm off just under the shoulder. It only excited the beetles more, as they chomped on skin, bone, anything they could get their infinitesimal teeth into. His feet nearly gone, his lower legs just bone, he howled in pain and frustration.

He pushed back to get to his knees while he still could. He swung the gauntlet. The purple stone flashed - and the bugs were blown from him. Cases rocked and fell with the impact.

He groaned, looking around to check they were indeed gone. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. He again flashed the stone - and looked down to watch brand new muscle and sinew start to wind itself around his bare bones. It knitted and covered, patched and repaired; in nearly a minute he had enough to move his legs and get back up. His right arm had begun to regenerate itself, sliding bone from out of his shoulder, lengthening, strengthening, producing tissue and muscle.

He smiled as he looked up at Angela, still crouched on her beam. “All for nothing, Asgardian,” he said. “I was wrong to leave _any_ of you alive. But balance is balance; the others will yet live. You, however, will die scream—”

He gasped in shock as something hot ripped into his back. It poked out the front of his chest as what felt like a small planet barrelled into his back with a furious yell. Flattened to the ground, the hot pain pinned him down.

Valkyrie stood tall on his back. “Sorry, what was that?” she demanded. “ _You’ll_ die screaming? Oh let me make that happen.”

“You’re making this - this very difficult!” he raged, struggling.

She dropped to her knee and grasped at the gauntlet. She yanked and yanked to try to work it loose.

Angela measured distances. And as Thanos heaved and tried to get free, she launched herself from the beam. Her boots landed square in his back. He coughed and she heard ribs crack under her landing. She leant over and pushed at the glove as Valkyrie pulled.

“Aaarrgh!” Thanos bellowed. He moved to clench his fist. “You pathetic little—!”

He was cut short as a bright blue beam shot across the room. It hit the glove. Both women snatched their hands clear. It smoothed over, froze the gems and the gauntlet in place. As Thanos writhed and struggled, the two women brought smaller blades to bear. They levered at the gauntlet between them.

Thanos roared and bucked. He smashed the gauntlet down to the ground. Ice fell in great shards. He looked up ahead and left to see Tivan standing watching him, the winter casket between his hands. “No,” Thanos panted. “You can’t stop me. You _won’t_ stop me!” He flicked his wrist out.

The winter casket went flying through the air. Tivan was swept off his feet and up into the ceiling. He plummeted back down. He landed awkwardly and a loud _crack_ told tales of many broken bones. His head tilted to one side; the enjoyment in his eyes faded until there was nothing left.

“We nearly have it!” Angela cried. She strained to control Thanos’ arm, to rip the gauntlet loose.

He felt strength flow into his new right arm. He pushed at the floor and simply shook the women free, sending them across the room. They rolled and were on their feet in a second, weapons drawn. “Huh,” he sneered. “Your pathetic ambush is already failing. The two of you cannot stop me.”

“Three, you crazy son of a bilgesnipe!”

He turned. Amora was behind him; she lifted both hands. She shouted something that sounded either magical or particularly rude. The air crackled and fizzed even as he raised his hands to shield himself. A massive bolt of energy hit him square in the chest. He was thrown back and into the last casket standing. It smashed on impact, leaving him in a pile of lethal shards.

Amora whirled both hands, coming closer but stopping just out of reach. “Now, Titan… what are your dreams? What do you fear?” She paused her hands, then thrust her palms out at him. His eyes closed and he drew in a deep breath.

He howled in pain. Valkyrie and Angela had to cover their ears as best they could with one hand each.

Amora’s right hand flicked as if calling for the drinks menu. Then it went back to causing some kind of mental anguish in Thanos. Valkyrie gasped and knocked Angela’s elbow. She pointed to the newly summoned pools of beetles massing and making for Thanos’ prone form.

“Get back!” Valkyrie cried. Angela retreated as the bugs met Thanos’ feet and began to chomp. Valkyrie leapt onto his chest. “Come and get me!” she cried.

The bugs began to climb, began to eat their way up his right arm and sides. Valkyrie looked up. She steeled herself, then leapt for quite literally her life. Her left hand missed the beam in the ceiling - but her right latched onto it. She grinned then swung herself up. She looked down to see Angela scrambling over the metal frame of a broken exhibition case, trying to get higher so she too could jump to safety.

Thanos gurgled in pain. He thrust his left fist out. The gauntlet shimmered and sent barbs of blue and purple out in every direction.

Amora was smacked with an invisible force. She flew through the air and landed in the rubble. Beetles parted around her out of respect as they headed for the Thanos buffet.

He pushed and shoved to get to his hands and knees. Flesh was missing from both palms, from his legs, from his torso, but he climbed to his feet and bellowed in triumph. “You will all d- _huurgh!_ ”

A blue blast of cold power slapped him from his feet to the floor. He put his hands out to stop himself from falling. He succeeded - but when he looked up the ice beam was still going.

He just made out the sight of Tivan holding it. “You,” he accused. “I killed you!”

“You thought you did,” Tivan said with unexpected suave. His face, his clothes - it all shivered and rippled. And then, as if nothing of major import was happening, there stood Loki, the winter casket still belching out unspeakable cold between his hands. “Twice, in fact. Now hold still,” he said, his skin turning blue and his eyes beginning to burn. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”

 

 


	10. Taking One For the Team

 

 

Amora shook her head to clear it. She groaned and pushed herself to sit up. The sight that greeted her almost made her smile.

Angela and Valkyrie were watching warily as bugs skittered and chased around the prone form of Thanos. A steady stream of the universe’s coldest power was flattening him to the ground. To his credit, he was still struggling against it. The gauntlet, once shiny and powerful, was now mostly frozen and dormant. His newly regrown right arm was showing the effects of horrendous freeze-burns, even as bugs jumped at the wizened flesh. They froze and died on impact; they fell to the ground.

Amora waved a hand and the beetles faded into nothing. She got up, dusted herself down, and then cast a wary eye over Loki.

Now completely blue and apparently enjoying it, he was watching with rather too much eager satisfaction as Thanos slowed, his petrified flesh gradually turning to something very close to ice.

Loki came nearer to get a better view. “Remember how your underlings found me drifting through space?” he growled. “Remember how you set your pets on me, those pathetic Chitauri, to badger me into accepting your little offering, your tesseract? How when you realised the pain of physical torture wouldn’t work, you had The Other begin his whispers? How you had your minions tell me that conquering a planet in your name would take away all the demeaning, belittling shade of a big brother? How with the gift you deigned to bestow upon me I could wipe away all that injustice, all my shame - the _pain_?”

Thanos writhed and fought against the ice creeping over his side, up his neck.

“Then remember _this_ pain, Titan,” Loki snarled. “Remember how this ‘little upstart’ you so wanted to die in his conquest of Midgard, to leave you with the tesseract’s stone and a culled world, has beaten you!”

Thanos gave a bellow of rage. He forced a hand under himself. He pushed to get up.

Angela drew her sword. She leapt at him, landed on his back.

Loki jolted in fear. “No!”

She rammed her blade through Thanos. It clanged into the rock beneath and kept going. She leant all her weight on it.

Trapped, Thanos simply shouted and panted in air against lungs already freezing over.

“ _Angela!_ ” Loki raged.

She gasped as she felt the cold nipping at her hands. They tried to release - but they were stuck to the freezing hilt. She pulled. She could not move. A warrior’s instinct kicked in and she piled more weight on the hilt to keep Thanos down.

“Help her!” Valkyrie cried. She rushed to her side.

Angela gasped in pain. “Stop! Do not touch me!”

Valkyrie and Amora watched in horror as dark blue power leeched up her sword to her arms, burning her flesh to frozen, wizened sticks as it went.

“Let go!” Valkyrie cried.

“He - will - escape!” she grunted. She fell to one knee in agony.

The winter casket stopped. Valkyrie’s head snapped round to see Loki already rolling his hands, hiding it somewhere she couldn’t guess. His skin was at once back to a pale imitation of Asgardian. He ran at Angela.

“Stop! You’ll burn too!” Valkyrie urged.

“Not me,” he said bitterly. He put his hands to Angela’s, and while his skin might have turned to pale blue, they did not freeze. He tried to get his hands under her fingers. She blurted something in pain. He stopped. He backed up a step, his palms up, his face white with fear. He looked at the quickly thawing Thanos. He cast around for something - _any_ thing - that might help.

 

. . .

 

“I don’t know, man - this one’s really hard,” Korg said. He scratched his head. “I mean, how are we supposed to allocate that land when we don’t know anything about it?”

The woman next to him, Hasson, shrugged. “Well she says it’s hers, and he says it’s his. I don’t think they’re looking for allocation, I think they’re looking for a judgement.”

“You shouldn’t judge people,” Korg said. “It’s not nice. That’s what my mum says.”

She smiled. “I meant the situation.”

“Oh. I guess I can have a go at that.” He heaved a sigh at the picture of the land, drawn on the tablet in his hand. “What would _you_ do, man?”

She flicked long brown hair over her shoulder. “The same as you.”

“But I don’t know _what_ to do.”

“You’ve known the answer to everything so far,” she said. “In fact, people are starting to rely on you.”

“Well I’m only here till Loki gets back, man. They shouldn’t get used to me.” He snapped his fingers. “Loki.”

“What of him?”

“I solved every other problem by doing what he told me to. So…” He looked at the map again. “Aaaand… I know what we have to do.”

“What?”

“We have to burn the land.”

“ _What?_ ”

“We have to set fire to the land,” he said cheerfully.

“But it’s _farm_ land.”

“I know! Loki is a _genius_ ,” he chuckled. “Send them in.”

Hasson turned and swept gloriously coloured skirts out of her way to walk to the doors. She pulled one open, waiting for it to arc wide. Her head popped out. “Hello,” she said brightly. “The acting leader will see you now.”

A woman, short and stocky with wide arms and a perennial tan about her, nodded and walked in without fear. A man pulled his suit jacket together and followed at a more respectable pace.

“Now listen here,” the woman began, even as she stopped in front of Korg’s chair. “This is my land and he’s trying to steal it!”

“I am _not_ ,” the man shot back. “She’s been trying to nick it bit by bit since she moved next to me.”

“Alright, man, calm down,” Korg said. He stood up slowly. “I’ve already decided what we do with it.”

“With what?” the man asked.

“The land,” Korg said. “We’re going to burn it.”

“Burn it?” the woman spluttered. Then she stopped short. She thought about it. She folded her arms and nodded. “Ok.”

“What? No!” the man cried. “I need that land! It’s mine and you can’t just—”

“See, I don’t think it is,” Korg interrupted. He walked over and towered over the man.

“Of course it is,” he said quietly.

“Really? Then you want what’s best, right? We burn it.”

“No! If we burn it then it’s no good to me!” he protested.

Korg looked at the woman. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Burn it.”

Korg smiled. He turned to Hasson. “It’s hers. Give it to her. Make a seal or a letter or something.”

The man almost choked in anger. “What? It’s mine! How dare you!”

“It’s _farm_ land,” Korg said. “You’re not a farmer. It’s not yours.”

The woman grinned but said nothing.

“How dare you!” the man shouted. “Just because I know how to wash and I’ve got an expensive suit doesn’t mean—”

“You didn’t want to burn it,” Korg shrugged.

“Well of course I don’t!”

Korg went back to his chair and sat. He looked at the woman. “Hey, man. Tell him why you don’t mind it being burnt.”

She smiled, then turned to appraise the apoplectic man. “Because it’ll purge the crops and weeds and I can start again. _Farmers_ do it every now and then. You might want to look into that.”

His mouth flapped. He threw his hands in the air. “Fine! Take it! It’s worthless anyway!”

“What?” Korg asked.

“It’s half covered in muh’tholey weeds,” he snapped.

“Nice,” the woman smiled.

“Idiot!” he raged. He turned on his heel and stormed out.

Korg looked at Hasson, then at the woman. “What’s he talking about?”

“Muh’tholey weeds,” she said slowly. “They grow all over Sakaar. People think they’re nasty, useless weeds, when actually you can make muloy oil out of them.”

“Is that for engines or something - oh hey, we could use some of that for a spaceship we parked outside the city,” he asked.

“A medicine,” she said. “I’ll just go… farm some medicinal ingredients, then.”

“Yeah! Cool, man. Off you go,” Korg grinned. “And my aide here, Dave—”

“Hasson,” she interrupted.

“—Dave will get you the deed so you own it properly. That ok with you?” Korg went on.

The farmer grinned. “That’ll be great. Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t thank me - it was what Loki said to do,” he said.

“This Loki sounds like a nice bloke,” the farmer said. “I mean, everyone says he started a union to make sure strippers got paid equal, _and_ solved the food crisis in the blue quarter. Is that right?”

“Uh… yeah, sure,” Korg nodded.

“Impressive,” she nodded.

Hasson swished her long skirts over to her. “Follow me,” she said, “and we’ll get you that deed.”

“Yeah, ok. Thanks, acting leader,” the farmer said, waving to Korg.

“No worries. Just make a tonne of medicine,” he nodded. “But you can’t sell for it a high price, man. You have to sell it fair.”

“Will do.” She and the aide walked out in deep conversation.

Korg gave a contented sigh and looked out of the window. “Wow - Loki does have an easy life, deciding things. I wonder what he’s doing now. Bet he’s having a nap somewhere. You have to keep your health, after all.”

 

. . .

 

Thanos heaved a shoulder; Angela’s hands were torn free of the hilt in his back. She cried out in pain and fell - Loki grabbed her by the elbows and she fell back directly into him. It was all he could do to bolster her fall. They flumped in a seated heap on the floor, Angela leaning back into him in helplessness.

He sat up, kept his arms round her, held hers clear. She looked at his hands and saw the blue steadily leeching from her to him.

“What are you - you doing?” she gasped.

“Not sure,” he grunted. “Trying - to - stop it.”

She heard the pain and anger in his voice. “Leave it be.”

“No.”

“There is nothing you can do.”

“How _dare_ you call me useless,” he snapped through gritted teeth.

“You - will - not - stop me!” Thanos shouted. “There must - be - balance!”

Loki’s eyes fastened on him with an entire universe of loathing. “Amora - remove those cursed stones, if you’re not too busy!”

Amora raised her hands. She looked up; she called something into the air, into the universe itself. Her hands came down - and the stones _ping_ ed up out of the gauntlet as if kicked.

They flew through the stench of burnt flesh and pain. They rolled into green cloth and leather. They stopped. They waited.

Loki’s hands weakened on the Asgardian’s arms. “Angela,” he said quietly in her ear. “Can you hold on?”

“I can - if you kill him.”

He grinned, shaking his head, knowing she couldn’t see it behind her. “You are… magnificent.”

“Go.”

Loki carefully sat her forward and extricated himself. He hauled himself to his feet, then looked at Valkyrie. He put a hand out.

She looked down at her sword, hefted it in her hand - and then she tossed it at him.

He snatched it from the air and walked up to the fallen Titan.

“You know, I’m really old by Midgard standards,” he breathed, “but even I was naiive when I first met you. Me, the God of Mischief, was naiive.” He reached down and put a hand to Thanos’ shoulder. He yanked and the man was rolled up to his side. He fell to his back, glaring up at the much smaller man. “If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in all my years, it’s that everyone just keeps getting another chance. _Everyone_. I mean, Amora there has had at least two that I know of. Valkyrie? On her second. Angela? Plenty. I’ve had _several_ , and believe me, I’m not sure I deserve any of them. Then again, I could use one right about now - I need to find my brother. There is sun, and _light_ , out there - and he needs to see it. Because even he got another chance.” He placed a boot on Thanos’ chest and leant his elbow on it to look down into his face. “ _Everyone_ just keeps getting another chance.” He flipped the sword around his hand deftly, the blade sitting backward along his forearm. “Except you.”

He jerked his elbow round. The sword went in under Thanos’ chin. It slid through tissue, through bone - and then hit its target. An awful cracking sound later and the point was escaping through the top of his head.

Thanos jerked. His body rose in stiff protest.

And then, gently, gradually, all the air was purged. His huge lungs emptied, his chest deflated. He sank, he sagged, he lay still.

Valkyrie blew out a long, relaxing breath. Amora nodded and her hands went to her hips.

Loki stared down with abject hatred. He got some breath back as he watched the dead man’s face very, _very_ carefully. Finally he yanked the sword free.

He rammed it down into the barrel chest. He stood back, leaving the blade upright. He panted in air, wiped his hands on his trousers, and nodded to himself in vindication.

The Collector’s gallery was a very quiet place.

“Loki,” Valkyrie said. “Angela.”

He turned immediately and went back to the fallen warrior. He crouched, one knee behind her to keep her up, a hand to her far shoulder. “Angela,” he said, his voice smooth, quiet, for her ears alone, “do you trust me?”

Tears of agony breaking from each eye, she dragged in a breath. “No,” she whispered.

Loki smiled. “There’s hope for you yet.” He brought his right hand up to produce a small blue stone.

“How did you—?” Amora blurted. She looked at Valkyrie. She threw her hands out and shrugged, lost.

“Give me a moment,” Loki whispered.

Angela closed her eyes, ready to fall down where she sat.

Amora and Valkyrie watched, their hearts in their mouths, as Loki’s hand glowed a bright, brilliant blue. His eyes sank closed and he bowed his head.

Angela sucked in a deep breath in pain. She clenched her teeth, blew out lungfuls of angry, agonised breath. But her arms - they began to heal, began to replace lost flesh.

Valkyrie took a step forward. She watched, open-mouthed, as Angela was repaired exactly as she had been. She shook her head slowly, impressed.

Loki looked up. He opened his hand. The stone went dim. “There - that should do it,” he said quietly.

Angela turned her hands over, checking all of her skin. She looked up at him. “Thank you.”

His mouth opened but stalled. He tilted his head. “Uh… right.”

“People don’t say that to you a lot, do they?” she managed.

“Uh… no,” he said edgily. He squeezed at her shoulder. “Are you ready to get up?”

“I am always ready.”

He grinned and stood clear. She pushed herself to her feet, pulling her armour straight, scraping hair from her eyes.

Loki was watching her. “Everything… repaired? Back as it was?”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think I am intact.”

“But… you have a stone,” Valkyrie said. Loki swirled to see her tracking him with narrowed eyes. “Where did you get that stone? How are you even _holding_ it?”

He lifted it in his thumb and finger, showing it to the room. “Oh, this stone and I have a history,” he said. “And I picked it up from where Amora left them when she prised them from the gauntlet.” He paused, then looked around. “Amora?”

“So you have _two_ stones,” came her voice.

Valkyrie spun to see her behind her, back by the last broken case. “Amora?”

“And I have just one,” she said. She lifted the small silk cushion, the polished red stone still sitting upon it as if awaiting the care of servants.

“Now, wait a minute,” Loki said quickly, walking toward her.

“Don’t come any closer,” she barked. “I have this one - the reality stone, if I’m not mistaken. You have those two, which I’m guessing are power and space. Shall we see who has _more_ power?”

“Don’t,” Loki said. “Amora - _please_ \- don’t use that.”

“You sound scared,” she sneered.

“I am,” he admitted. Valkyrie blinked - and even Angela seemed surprised. Loki took another step toward her, his empty hand out-stretched. “That is more power than _anyone_ can handle. Not even as Asgardian or Jotunheim deity can hold _that_ stone.”

“So _you_ say,” she countered.

“Amora, don’t do anything stupid,” Valkyrie warned.

“Oh be quiet, soldier,” she snapped. “You think you’re such a rebel. _Please_ \- I’ve been on Asgard’s Most Wanted list for longer than you’ve been old enough to drink.”

Valkyrie’s mouth snapped shut, but something about her sudden glower made Amora smile.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said gently. They all looked over, but he was regarding Valkyrie. “I did try to warn you.”

“Yes, the would-be hero,” Amora scoffed. “Don’t think that you’ve won us over, God of Lies. We know you’re here to keep the stones for yourself.”

“Actually?” he said politely, rolling his fingers. The blue stone in his hand was switched for a purple one. “I’ll do you a trade.”

She stared. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said I’ll trade. You give me the one you have there, and you can have this power stone. After all, that one is no good to you. It’s for _reality_. You need something you can draw power from so that your own spells are amplified. Imagine never having to recharge again,” he mused.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to trick me out of this.”

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Yes; once again you’ve seen through me.” He let his hand drop. “ _I’m_ trying to trick you into taking the power stone _from_ me in exchange for a stone I cannot handle and cannot use. Great detective work; fantastic.” He gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Go you,” he added with a sarcastic wink.

She frowned. “So… why would you want to trade it for that one you _can_ use?”

“I have to get these somewhere they can be safely incarcerated,” he said. “And I’ve had enough of stones. I can’t leave you with that one, but I know giving you this one is the lesser of two evils.”

“The lesser of two evils is still evil,” Angela said from behind him.

“ _Shut it_ ,” he bit out.

“I can still kill you from here, little man,” Angela snapped.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. “One fight at a time, people.” He opened his eyes again. “Look, Amora - you have all the power here. Take that stone - the one you can’t use - and we can’t stop you. Take _this_ stone and we won’t _try_ to stop you - and you can use it to fuel whatever magic you desire, until the end of time. It’s up to you. It’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we _literally_ cannot stop you.”

She smiled. “You have a point.”

“ _I’ll_ stop you,” Valkyrie said stiffly.

Amora looked at her. “Ngaw, kitten,” she gushed. “You really won’t.”

“No - you won’t,” Loki said meaningfully.

“Yeah I will,” Valkyrie shot back.

Loki glared at her. “ _No_ , you _won’t_.”

She opened her mouth but the sudden, barely-there shake to Loki’s head made the protest die on her lips. She threw up her hands. “Whatever. This whole week has been a shitstorm of unwanted drama. Can we get on with this please?”

Loki settled his gaze back on Amora. “What will it be?” he asked simply. “Are you going to leave here with a stone you _can_ use, or one you can’t?”

Amora looked down at her hand, and the stone on the cushion.

 

 


	11. Stone Me

 

 

Amora took a step back to make sure everyone was in front of her. She glanced at the stone still sitting in the cushion, putting her hand out for it.

“I wouldn’t,” Loki said hastily.

She glared at him. Then she put her thumb and finger to it, as if to lift it. Something tingled, even through the inch of polished amber around it. She let it go quickly. Her hand fell as her eyes went to him. “What you say may be true.”

“Honestly - you cannot wield that,” he said. “And even if you could, it would negate the need for any of your magic. Is that what you want, Amora? Do you want to give up being an enchantress - _the_ enchantress - to use a stone to do everything? To have everyone know it’s not your skill or spells making things happen, but an ancient chunk of reality from the birth of a universe?”

She smiled. “You really are a persuasive one, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “It’s up to you. You choose.”

Valkyrie went back to the rapidly cooling corpse of Thanos. She ripped her sword free and watched the viscera and blood drip from it. “Can you choose like now?” she asked. “Thanos is dead, and we need to get out of here. There are Asgardians waiting for us on Sakaar.”

Amora looked at Angela. “You,” she said. “What say you?”

“Me?” Angela said. “I am a warrior, Amora. I care nothing for magic or power stones. Do with it what you will.”

“And what if I take this stone so that I may conquer a universe?” she asked.

“ _Then_ I would stop you.”

“Honest as always,” Amora smiled. “And you,” she said to Loki.

“Oh I’ve made my position very clear,” he said, his voice low, smooth.

She chuckled. “Which is why I’m not going to listen to you - everything you do, everything you say, is to somehow further your own agenda. I will do what is best for me, thank you.”

He waved his hands out. “As you say.”

Her eyes narrowed. She turned and went back to the smashed case behind her. Rooting around, aware she was being watched but not caring, she eventually found a small metal ball. She stood up and studied it, finding it a display case. She flicked it open with her free hand and slid the stone into it. Something inside grabbed the stone and held it in place. It shone and teased the eye. She snapped the ball shut hastily and turned to the three of them. “Fine,” she said. “Give me the purple stone - the power one. And no tricks.”

“Agreed,” Loki said. He lifted his hand with the stone it in. “But… I hope _you_ will agree that we need to swap these at the same time. Fair’s fair.”

She smirked. “Fine.” She hefted the ball in her hand, then walked closer. She stopped barely a few feet from him. “No tricks, Loki.”

“I give you my word.”

“Not good enough.”

“Then…” He paused. “I swear on Frigga’s immortal soul.”

She nodded. “That I’ll take.” She put her hand up.

Loki proffered the purple stone in his fingers. “You’re going to need that cushion.”

She put both her hands up. She offered him the ball as her other hand lifted the cushion out to him. “Drop it in the silk nice and slowly, Laufeyjarson.”

He got his fingers to the ball, resting them there as he reached out with the purple stone. It hovered over the cushion. “Just… promise me you won’t touch this.”

“Just hand it over.”

He dropped it. At the same moment his fingers fastened on the ball. They lifted as she drew back with the cushion in both hands.

She stepped back, watching the purple stone on its silk-like bed. He inspected the ball then opened it, peering at the shiny amber casing and the Reality Stone within.

“Done?” Valkyrie asked nervously. “I mean, you’ve both got the right ones, right?”

“It would appear so,” Loki said.

“Yes, it would,” Amora mused. She looked at the three of them. “You know, I never really expected to get this. I actually believed you were going to double-cross me. Either you, Loki, or you’d somehow get the others to join forces with you and you’d _all_ attempt to overpower me.” She looked at the cushion. “But… here we are.”

“Yes,” Loki said, sounding a little bemused himself. “So…”

“We must return to Sakaar,” Angela said. “But you, Loki - where will you keep these powerful weapons in secret?”

A quiet _crack_ of breaking glass, a curse and more noises made them all look behind them, back toward the entrance. Taneleer Tivan was trying to make his way through the results of their epic battle. “May I suggest a new display case, right here?” he called.

Loki smiled. “Your generosity is appreciated, but unnecessary,” he said.

“What _have_ you done to my gallery?” he demanded. “This was not part of the deal, sir. Hide, you said - leave before a Titan arrives, you said. What have you done?”

“You will be well compensated,” Loki sighed. “And in any case, you have your promised payment.”

Tivan came around him, looking at Angela with wide, respectful eyes, then at Valkyrie and finally Amora. “I… see a fearsome foursome, sir. But I do not see my prize.”

Loki’s hands circled quickly and the metal ball was gone. He turned and pointed twenty feet to his left. “How can you miss that?”

Tivan’s hands went to his face. He gasped in awe, in wonder, as he crept closer. “Is this…?”

“Thanos. The would-be universe killer,” Loki said. “All yours. Well, with one small alteration.”

“You… have… delivered, sir,” Tivan managed.

“Yes. Haven’t I?” he said with a private smile. He turned to look around at the not so merry band of revengers. “Now then—. Amora, no!”

One of her hands was still supporting the stone - but the other was reaching for it. “I have told you before,” she said icily, “I do not listen to your biased viewpoint.”

“You can’t touch it!” he cried angrily.

“Watch me.” She grabbed the stone.

Tivan didn’t hesitate - he dived for cover. Valkyrie and Angela stood back but raised weapons. Loki took a step forward.

Amora grinned in triumph as her hand fastened around the stone. Streaks of light, of power, flew out in all directions. Her face dropped as she felt something fastening around _her_. “What is this?” she whispered.

A shriek, a growing flash of the brightest purple seen by any being - and she was enshrined. It writhed and chased itself over her skin, her hair, the stone itself.

Tivan, Valkyrie, Angela - they all watched, open-mouthed in horrid fascination, as Amora was transformed into pure light and energy. Kaleidoscopic colours - whatever Amora was made of - were hurled around the room.

And then sucked into the stone.

It fell.

Loki threw a hand out and lunged for it. It dropped into his palm as he landed heavily on the floor.

His fist closed.

Everything went very still.

Loki breathed hard as he clenched the stone very tightly in his hand. Steadily, cautiously, he pushed himself up to one knee. He got up and then dusted himself down.

“What… just happened?” Valkyrie asked.

Angela sheathed her sword and came toward him. “What have you done with Amora?”

“Me?” he managed. He looked at them both, his eyebrows up in innocence that was either genuine or very finely crafted. “I did nothing. I warned her, I _told_ her not to touch it. And now look.” He opened his hand.

Angela came closer and peered down. “She is… in the stone?”

“It would appear so,” Loki said.

“What the Hel?” Valkyrie demanded. She hurried over to look down. There, inside the gem, was a very tiny whirl of purple and yellow, spinning rapidly as if in anger. She gasped. “That’s Amora?”

“That almost sounds like a song,” Loki said absently.

“But is it Amora?” Angela pressed.

“I believe so.” Loki shrugged. “It seems… she was more powerful than she thought.”

“Explain,” Tivan said, walking around them all to see. “The last person I saw touch that purple orb exploded.”

“People normally do,” Loki said. “This stone seeks a vessel or seeks to _be_ a vessel. The person you saw, Tivan, was I suspect not powerful enough to need a vessel. Therefore the stone sought to use _them_ as one, with disastrous results. Most people cannot contain the power of this.”

“And Amora?” Valkyrie asked.

“She was more powerful - or at least, _potentially_ more powerful - than the stone. It decided to be _her_ vessel, so that it could use her as a power source,” he said.

Angela’s hand shot out and grabbed the collar of his leathers. He snatched his fist shut hastily as the others stepped back. “Be truthful, Laufeyjarson - did you plan this?”

“Honestly? No,” he said, his eyes wide.

Angela drew her sword and flipped it round her hand. She brought it up under his chin to press into his throat. “Be very sure.”

He swallowed, his hands up, one still clenched. “I had no idea,” he said firmly. “And it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not - it doesn’t even matter if I planned this or not. She’s _contained_ , and she can’t use the stone for anything. Do you understand?” he said earnestly.

“You promised,” Valkyrie nodded. “You said - you said you’d give her the stone. You knew, right?”

“I did _not_ ,” he snapped irritably. “A deal is a deal, Valkyrie. I got her to give me the more dangerous stone. I honestly did _not_ know she would touch the damned thing and I certainly did _not_ expect the stone to find her so powerful that it would entrap her! What am I, a bloody Infinity Stone whisperer?”

“A what?” Valkyrie asked.

“It’s a—. Never mind,” Loki grunted.

“I understood that reference,” Tivan said suddenly. Everyone turned and looked at him - just looked. “I have contacts in the Milky Way.”

“Whatever,” Loki said dismissively. “The fact remains that we’re all safe now, so we can all return to Sakaar.”

Angela eyed him. “Why should I trust you?”

His shoulders gave just the slightest sag. “What difference would it make?” he sighed.

She made her sword drop, then sheathed it on her back. Her other hand yanked him so close by the collar that she nearly chinned him. Her eyes ranged over his expression, barely inches away, with intent. “I will watch you very carefully, Laufeyjarson. Remember that.”

He gave a wide, disarming smile. His head tilted as he looked her face over. “And they say warriors don’t know how to _enjoy_ themselves,” he said, his voice like three fluid tonnes of honey.

She let him go with a slight shove. He pulled his leathers straight and avoided her gaze.

“How do we get back to Sakaar?” Valkyrie asked.

“First we need a very large bag,” Loki said. “Tivan, my friend - would you have a carry case? Preferably one that can chill the contents for transportation?”

“I have several,” he said, turning from his inspection of the large corpse still lying spread-eagled on the floor. “For why, sir?”

“There’s one thing I need from your prize, and then we’ll be off.”

“Of course.” Tivan turned. “You know, this may not cover the cost of the damage to this place.”

Loki looked around, nodding to himself. “Yes. Making this much mess was not part of the deal. I do apologise.” He opened his fist, looking at the stone. “I think we owe this gentlemen a rebuild, ladies. Would that be acceptable?”

Valkyrie shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“As long as you put it back as it _was_ ,” Angela said. “And nothing more.”

“Far be it for me to argue,” Loki said. He glanced at the stone in his hand. He closed his eyes.

They waited.

A minute - two - went by.

“Uh… any time,” Valkyrie said.

“Well if it were easy, _you_ could do it,” he snapped, not even opening his eyes.

She opened her mouth to retaliate but a piece of glass by her foot vanished. She looked around and watched, surprised, as glass cases rebuilt themselves as if dragged backward through time. Broken tables glued themselves back together, smashed exhibits found themselves repaired and put back in their cases.

It took less than a minute, but by the time all activity had stopped, the audience were impressed.

“Thank you, sir,” Tivan managed quietly. He turned back to Loki.

He was sweating and definitely out of breath. He gasped his eyes open and looked around. “There. Everyone happy?”

Valkyrie put a hand to her cheek. “My face was cut.”

“You’re welcome,” Loki said quietly. She made her hand drop, shaking her head in disbelief.

Angela checked her own face, then came closer to him. “You did not heal your own wounds?” she asked, seeing the cuts and damage to his face still stark against his pale smile.

“I think I like these. I’ll let them heal on their own,” he said.

Angela put a hand to the side of his shoulder. “They came from… _glorious_ battles.”

Loki paused, intrigued. “Yes.”

“ _And_ this battle to kill Thanos.” She patted with her hand and then walked away.

Loki turned and watched her go, a thoughtful frown on his face. Then he jolted as if poked with something. He turned to look at the far entrance. “Tivan,” he said urgently. “Did you turn your landing alerts back on?”

“Why?”

Something thin and dark came flying through the air. Loki snatched it before it could hammer into his face. He blinked as he realised he was holding the blade of a long sword. “What the—”

“No-one move!” came a shout. “We’ve had a really shitty day and I would hate to have to take it out on any of you!”

Angela and Valkyrie drew swords and came to stand either side of Loki. He flipped the captured blade round his hand and held it ready.

“Who’s this now?” Valkyrie asked.

Tivan put his hands up for calm. “Wait, my friends - we _are_ all friends here, aren’t we?”

“That depends, Whitey - you selling anything to these people?” the voice continued.

“The question is, what are _you_ here for?” Loki called.

A man in a reddish-brown jacket and wearing some kind of metal helmet appeared first, something that was definitely a weapon in his hand. He put a hand up to his ear as he walked forward slowly. The helmet collapsed to reveal a human-looking man with a very concerned look on his face. “Ok - who are you guys?”

“Who are _you_?” Loki countered.

“I asked you first,” he shot back. He raised the gun. “Let’s all start talking.”

“We have concluded our business,” Loki said, his voice polite but definitely unamused, “and we’ll be leaving now. I suggest you stand aside.”

“No-one’s going anywhere until I know what you’ve bought or stolen from this dude,” he said angrily. He looked at Tivan. “Hey, man. Remember me? What’s going down right now? You being robbed?”

“Not at all,” Tivan said with a smile. “I have been well paid.”

“Oh.” The man’s gun went down a notch. “Uh… ok.”

A woman came out from the shadows behind him, a knife in her hand. Her long dark hair and green skin made Loki’s head tilt. “A Zen-Whoberian,” he mused.

Her head snapped to focus her gaze on him. “Who are you?”

“I’m leaving, as are my friends,” he said patiently. “I assume you have business with Tivan that you don’t want us to be part of.”

“Thanos!” someone shouted. A man, large, bald, covered in swirling red tattoos and cluelessness, came out from behind the woman. He was pointing behind Loki and the Asgardians.

“Whoa,” the man breathed, his gun falling to his side, forgotten. “Is that - is _that_ Thanos? Is he dead? Wait - _is he dead?_ ” he demanded. He and the woman hurried over to the corpse, looking down at him.

Loki stood back, a hand up to Valkyrie. She lowered her sword but did not put it away. Angela hovered over Loki’s left shoulder, watching carefully.

The woman crouched slowly. She put her face in her hands. The man knelt next to her and put an arm round her.

Loki looked left to see another woman come from the shadows. “Hello,” she said cheerfully. “I am Mantis.”

“Hello,” he offered. He waved a hand at her green clothes. “I like your tailor.”

She smiled. “Thank you. We have come a long way and I think my friends are all over-excited by our mission.” She came closer. “Who are you?”

“We’re leaving,” he said. “We just have to cut the head off that corpse there and we’ll be on our way.”

“You _killed_ him,” Mantis hissed in surprise. She went over to the fallen Titan, the large tattooed man following her. They stood over him for a moment as the woman continued to be held up the man in red.

“Yes, and this is all very touching, but really, we have to go,” Loki said. He gestured to Valkyrie with his chin, before turning to look at Angela.

“No-one’s going anywhere,” the man said suddenly, lifting his gun again. “Not until you tell us how you did this, and where his fancy glove has gone. Y’know, the one with the shiny gems in it?”

Loki lifted his hand to explain. “Look—.” He realised he was still holding a sword. “Whose is this, by the way? Do you want it back?”

“It’s mine,” the woman said. She got to her feet, drying her face. “And I _will_ have it back.” She crossed to him and he waited, sizing her up.

“Why is a Zen-Whoberian crying over Thanos? I thought he wiped out most of your people,” he said suspiciously.

“That’s her adopted dad,” the man in red said defensively.

“Oh. Well they _are_ complicated,” Loki allowed conversationally. “I have some experience.”

“Give me my sword,” she demanded.

He flipped it and the man raised his gun again. But Loki simply offered the hilt to her without preamble.

She took it and sheathed it, looking him up and down. “Was it you?”

“Was it me what?” he asked innocently.

“That killed him,” she snapped, folding her arms.

“It was a team effort,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse us—”

The man came forward, his gun trained on Loki’s face. “Hold up there, Prince Disarming - we have questions.”

“Would you _please_ put that down?” Loki asked. “We’ve all had a rather trying day as well, as you can see.”

The man pressed forward anyway.

Loki’s hand came up. The man’s gun vanished from his hand.

“What the—. What did you do?” he demanded.

Mantis began to laugh. Everyone turned to her. She had one hand over her mouth, her other pointing at the man’s belt. “It’s back in your holster, Peter.”

He looked down. “Oh. Well. Yeah. Ok.” He looked at Loki. “Nice. Kids’ magic tricks ain’t going to distract us though.” He pulled the gun again and pointed it at Loki’s face.

He waved a hand. The gun again disappeared and re-appeared in its holster. “I can do this all day,” Loki said, bored. “Or we can leave.”

The man again drew his gun. The woman turned and grabbed his wrist. “Oh will you stop!” she cried. She looked back at Loki. “My name is Gamora. This is Peter Quill, Drax and Mantis.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Loki said. “Now if you’ll—”

“My name is Valkyrie,” came a new voice. She stepped forward. “This is Angela, and this is Loki.”

“Right, ok,” Peter said, nodding. “So… what are you all doing here?”

“Saying goodbye,” Loki said neatly. He turned to go.

“What went down here? Where are the Infinity Stones?” Peter said.

Loki turned back to him, his face one of utter consternation. He looked at Tivan. “Collector? The deal?”

Tivan came forward with a slight smile. “A few pieces from my collection for the corpse of a mad Titan,” he shrugged. “We are done here.”

“So where are the stones?” Gamora demanded. “The two stones in the gauntlet he was wearing - where are they?”

“They’re coming with me,” Loki said firmly. “And I really didn’t want to say this, but you can’t stop us. So have a pleasant day, because Thanos _has_ been stopped and the universe is now safe. You’re welcome.”

“Why are they going with you?” Drax asked. He came walking round the side, to flank the three people. “Where are you taking them?”

“To a place where they will be safe,” Loki said. “What’s it to you?”

“Well there’s the small matter of the whole universe out looking for them,” Peter said. “And all the people that Thanos had _already_ killed looking for them.”

“We’re aware,” Loki said.

“I don’t think you are,” Peter argued, stepping closer. Loki edged back, eyeing him. “Whole planets have been wasted, man - Xandar, for one. Somewhere called Asgard,” Peter added.

“ _We_ are from Asgard,” Angela announced. Her sword tip raised slightly. “Have a care what you say next.”

“You’re from Asgard?” Gamora said quickly.

Mantis grinned. “Then you must know Thor!”

“Just because they’re all from the same planet doesn’t mean they know everyone _on_ it,” Peter sighed, rolling his eyes. He wiped a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he said to Angela.

Loki heaved a sigh of defeat, his hands dropping abruptly to slap down to his sides. “Thor is… my brother.”

“What?” Gamora said. She looked him up and down. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

“I’m adopted,” he managed. “How do you know of Thor?”

 

 


	12. Family Ties

 

 

Gamora folded her arms, watching Loki frown in consternation and wondering if it had been the word ‘Thor’ that had caused it.

“I’ll ask again - how do you know of Thor?” Loki demanded.

“He bounced off the window of our spaceship. In space,” Drax said. “We thought he was dead, but the pirate-angel is tougher than he looks. This is amazing, because he actually looks very, _very_ tough.” He appraised Loki in detail. “You do not. I believe you _must_ be adopted.”

“Thank you,” he said sarcastically.

“You are welcome,” Drax nodded.

Loki rolled his eyes. “When you say he hit your window - where was this? And where is he now?”

“It was quite far from here - he told us about Xandar and the people of Asgard,” Gamora said. “And… He was upset,” she added quietly.

“He’s always had a penchant for sentiment,” Loki mused. “Although his planet had just been destroyed, and as we were making a getaway Thanos stopped us and ripped the ship in half. He killed half of the Asgard survivors and escaped slaves we rescued from Sakaar. I suppose if there were ever a time to be upset, it was then.”

“No, he—.” Gamora paused. “He thought you were dead. We need to find him.”

“He thought I was dead?” Loki snorted. “Why?”

“I don’t know, man - but he’s gone to Never Never Land,” Peter said. “That’s where he’s headed - he’s got two of our crew with him.”

Loki looked at Peter for a long moment, his face one of intense concentration. “Never Never Land?”

“Yeah. That’s what he said, right?” Peter asked Gamora.

Drax shook his head. “No. It was Never Deliver Land.”

“No I’m sure it was Never Never Land,” Peter said.

“Nidavellir,” Angela and Valkyrie said together.

The others stopped short.

“Nidavellir,” Loki breathed. “But why… ah,” he realised, nodding. “Mjölnir was destroyed. He’s gone to get a new weapon.”

“Mjölnir is destroyed?” Angela gasped. “How?”

“Hela,” Loki said. “It’s a long story.” He looked back at Gamora. “You’re in charge of these people, are you?”

“ _I_ am,” Peter said.

“I highly doubt that,” Loki said with contempt. He looked back at Gamora. “My friends and I will head to Nidavellir to find my brother, and after that, to hide these stones from the universe at large. Tivan here has claim on your adopted father’s corpse. We just need his head.”

“What? You can’t cut his head off!” Peter gasped.

“ _I_ can,” Angela nodded.

“No, I mean—. You don’t go round chopping heads off dead people!” Peter protested. “It’s like - disrespectful or something.” He looked at Drax. “Right?”

“I agree with Thor’s tiny brother. His head should be ripped off and displayed, as a warning to anyone who would try to wield Infinity Stones,” he said firmly.

“But that was Gamora’s _dad_ ,” Peter said.

“That was not her choice. And how he is dead,” Drax countered. He looked at Loki. “Chop it off, little man.”

“The next person who calls me ‘little man’ gets my knife through their throat,” Loki snapped, his voice like ice.

“Try it,” Angela said from behind him.

He swirled around and glared at her. She lifted her chin and glared back. He took a step of intent toward her. Her hand snatched a sai from her thigh.

“Oh you two get a room!” Valkyrie cried, pushing between them and forcing them apart. She walked through them, ignoring their matching looks of outrage, instead pinning her gaze on Gamora. “Fine. We’re not chopping off any heads. But we promised his dead body to the Collector, here. If you want it, you speak to him.”

“I could be persuaded to part with it,” Tivan said. “For a small price, of course.”

Gamora turned to Peter. “Who says I want it?” she said.

“Well he was your father, and—”

“He slaughtered my family and kidnapped me - why would I want a piece of him dead?”

Peter put his hands to her face in an effort to calm her down. “I just thought you could bury him or something.”

“Hide him in the ground?” she asked, horrified. She pushed his hands off. “Why?”

“Well it’s a way to say goodbye, right, so—”

“Who made that up?”

“People on Earth do it,” he argued.

“We’re not _on_ Earth!”

“I know, but—”

Drax came closer. “It is an honourable way to prompt closure.”

“See?” Peter said. “Thank you. It would help you get over it.”

“What, that he ruined my life, or that he’s dead?” she demanded.

“I didn’t mean you should be happy about it!” he cried. “Although we wouldn’t blame you if you were, I mean—”

“He did plan to destroy a considerable amount of the universe,” Drax put in.

Mantis wandered back out of earshot, noticing the three other people heading out of the entrance and back to the surface of Knowhere. Loki paused, sensing he was being watched. He turned and found Mantis looking at him. He had something quite large covered in a black cloth tucked under his left arm. He shifted it to be more comfortable and raised his other hand to wave cheerfully.

She giggled and waved back.

He turned and was gone.

She ambled around the gallery, looking at all the tiny knick-knacks and exhibits as voices raged on behind her.

Eventually they fell silent, and she found Gamora crouched by the dead form of Thanos, her face in her hands. She crossed to her, sitting cross-legged and being very quiet.

Gamora raised her head and wiped away tears. “Loki was right; the universe is safer now.”

“Perhaps,” Mantis said. She patted at Gamora’s arm. “It doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be sad though.”

“Thanks,” Gamora said, a rueful smile pulling at her lips. She wiped at her face again. She sat properly, then looked around. “Where _is_ Loki? And the other Asgardians?”

“They left,” Mantis said quietly. “While you were arguing.”

“Oh.” She sniffed. “Where’s the gauntlet?”

Mantis looked over at the entrance. “I don’t know.”

“Right. We should find some way to contact Rocket and Groot, bring them back to the ship.”

“Maybe we should wait here. Loki will find his brother and then they will know where we are.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Gamora said. “Wait - I didn’t see another ship here when we landed - how are they going to get there?”

 

. . .

 

Loki produced a small blue stone and rolled it around in his fingers. “Ready?” he asked.

Angela nodded. Valkyrie held tight to her sword. “Let’s go before they realise we sneaked out.”

He smiled. His fist clenched over the stone and he closed his eyes.

A whirling, giant blue hurricane buffeted them, just yards from the open main street of Knowhere. As it took hold and sped faster, Valkyrie realised Knowhere was disappearing from outside the circle. She shouted to Loki but her voice was ripped from her and scattered around the storm.

Angela drew her sword and used the tip to keep her balance against the ground. She watched as the storm chased itself round them faster and faster - until everything beyond it was black.

It stopped. As if it had never been, the wormhole closed up behind them. Valkyrie turned and crouched, ready for attack. But the place was dark, empty.

“Is this the right place?” she asked.

Loki opened his eyes and panted in breath. He wobbled and Angela came forward and grabbed his upper arm in support. As Valkyrie looked around and took stock, he let himself get his equilibrium back, climbing down from the monumental battle for control the blue stone had just put him through. At last he stood straighter.

“I’m fine,” he said stiffly.

Angela lifted her hand, coming to face him. “Perhaps we should find a ship to the next place. Who knows what using that stone is doing to you.”

“Your concern is touching,” he said coldly.

“My concern is actually _reaching_ our next destination,” she shot back. “If something happens to you whilst we are in one of those transportation wormholes, then Valkyrie and I will also be forfeit.”

He nodded wearily. “I am aware.”

“Good.” She patted his shoulder firmly, making him almost stagger for balance.

“Thor!” Valkyrie shouted. Loki and Angela looked up to see her break into a run. She zipped off in a straight line, past some kind of huge smelting equipment that blocked their view. They hurried to follow.

As they rounded the monstrous vats they saw Valkyrie locked in a bearhug with a taller, wider Asgardian who was obviously pleased to see her. They parted but then grabbed arms and began talking at each other in eager happiness.

Angela sheathed her sword and folded her arms. “Will he be as happy to see you?”

“I very much doubt it,” Loki said.

She looked at him. “You sound troubled.”

“You sound like you care.”

“Then I’m sure we were both mistaken.” She sniffed and looked back at Valkyrie and Thor.

Loki resisted the urge to glance at her. Instead he couldn’t help counting the seconds, hoping they would stretch on forever, that Thor would never look up, never see him standing there. “You know what,” he said quietly. He put a hand to Angela’s back and gave a polite push. “You go first.”

She opened her mouth but when she turned he was gone. She sighed and put a boot out, walking up to the pair and bracing herself for a long explanation.

Thor looked up and grinned. “Angela! My god - how have you been?” he cried.

She smiled and Valkyrie let him go. He put an arm out and the two of them clasped wrists. “Thor,” she said. “Or King of Asgard, I hear.”

“Well, still Thor too,” he grinned. “You are well, I see.”

“I am,” she said. “Did your hair not survive your travails off Asgard then?”

He grinned. “No. So tell me,” he added, letting his arm drop and looking at Valkyrie. “How come two of Asgard’s mightiest warriors are both on Nidavellir at the same time - and just after I’ve created a new weapon with help from my friends Rabbit and Tree?”

“That is a long story,” she said.

“Where’s the ship? Where are the Asgardians, and everyone we saved from Sakaar?” he asked, his face falling. “And if you’re here, then where’s Korg? Are you here to help me stop Thanos?”

“We are here to tell you that there is no need,” Angela said. “Thanos has already been stopped.”

Thor stared at her - then at Valkyrie. “ _What?_ ”

“Thanos is dead,” Valkyrie said. “I saw it myself.”

“Which one of you killed him?” Thor demanded, annoyed. “He had much to pay for - I wanted to do it.” Then he blinked. “Wait - you’ve saved the universe! You’re heroes! More than that - icons! Legends!” He laughed suddenly, putting his hands on their shoulders and shaking them in his jubilation. “Tell me - which one of you dealt the killing blow?”

 

. . .

 

He headed off down the steps, making his silent way down to the docking bays. He found the first one empty of ships, and the second. He rounded the stone pillar for the third bay, spotting the metallic wing of some large shape and grinning to himself.

Rounding the corner he found an old but apparently powered-up ship waiting for use. He rubbed his hands together and walked around the side.

A hand shot out from the gap in the wall. It captured him by the throat.

“ _Huurgh!_ ” he spat in shock. The hand yanked him backwards. “Will - people - stop - doing that!” He grabbed the thumb and jerked it back sharply. The hand let go. He whirled to a ready crouch as daggers appeared in both hands.

Thor stepped out from the gap. “Loki.”

“Bugger,” he breathed. He straightened up, the daggers disappearing back whence they’d come. “You.”

“Me,” Thor said cheerfully. He folded his arms. “And you.”

“Uh… yes,” he said carefully. “Hold on - why do you have a new eye that’s a different colour? Is it even yours?”

“Loki—”

His put his hands up hastily. “Before you even start, I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can. You _always_ can,” Thor nodded with a proud smile.

“Right. Yes. So here’s a funny story - Thanos is dead and—”

“Oh I know,” he said, still smiling. “Valkyrie and Angela were just telling me all about it.”

“Right. Ok.” He watched Thor carefully, but he appeared completely at ease and pretty happy. “So… What’s next?” he asked suspiciously. “You hit me, shout at me, tell me off, threaten me with punishment, banishment - what?”

“No,” Thor said sadly. “Much worse.”

Loki backed up a step.

Thor walked toward him. Loki’s eyes darted from his hands to his eyes and back again as he panicked, desperate to see where the threat was coming from. But Thor simply raised his arms and grabbed him in a bearhug.

As he felt all breath being squeezed from him, his arms pinned to his sides, Loki closed his eyes and decided the safer option was to just wait it out.

Thor slapped at his back as he crushed him in his grip. “I believed it, this time. I actually thought you were really dead. I told Rabbit what had happened, and… that’s when it felt real.”

“C-code word,” he wheezed.

“What?” Thor asked.

“Co - _code_ word,” Loki managed. “Get off me, you oaf!”

Thor let him go quickly. He held him at arm’s length. “Just wanted to make sure you were really here.”

Loki pulled his leathers straight by the collar and cleared his throat. “Well now you know.”

“Yep.” He patted at his shoulder, then stood back.

“I gave you a code word and everything,” Loki said. “Right there, in front of Thanos. He had to believe it was real - he had to believe he’d killed me. But you were supposed to hear the code word and know that I had a plan.”

“A code word?” Thor asked. “What code word? All I saw was you trying to knife a huge fella with a tiny little pocket knife!”

“And when have I ever used a small blade on someone I meant to _kill?_ ” he accused. “I mean I’ve stabbed _you_ enough times for you to be able to tell when I mean it.”

Thor nodded. “True. You might have me there.”

“Moron,” Loki tutted. “The ridiculous murder attempt, the code word - don’t tell me you missed all of that?”

“I was distracted. And restrained.”

“And yet when people call you a dumb blonde _I_ defend you,” Loki said, shaking his head.

“Who does?”

“ _Anyway_ , I called myself Odinson - you were supposed to know that meant I was lying and I had a plan.”

“What was this great plan of yours?” he asked.

“Well getting the unarmed and vulnerable half of the ship to safety to start with,” he spluttered. “I mean I knew you’d be ok, but a lot of Asgardians and a load of Sakaarians were on that vessel before Thanos ripped it in half.”

Thor nodded. “All good points.” He turned away, thinking. “Why did you not greet me when the others did?”

“I…” He bit his lower lip, watching Thor turn back to look at him. “I honestly thought that… you wouldn’t be very happy to see me.”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Because… because I’ve got this far knowing when to steer clear. And although we parted on ok terms and Thanos is dead, that doesn’t…” He paused, and although Thor waited, Loki took his time finding either words or courage. He kept his eyes on Thor’s boots. “Sometimes… I think there’s so much dubious history I will never truly know when I should rightfully be wary… or if it’s just a knee-jerk reaction to expect condemnation.”

Thor shook his head. “You should have said hello.”

“That and… I have three Infinity Stones.”

“ _What!_ ” he hissed. “Who knows of this?”

“You, me, Amora—”

“Amora? Where is she?” Thor demanded. “I can’t believe you freed her to help you, Loki!”

“I did no such thing,” he bristled. “She was freed when Asgard was turned to gravel, idiot. And I needed her help against a mad Titan about to destroy an entire universe. That’s the difference between you and me, brother - needs must.”

He rolled his eyes. “Aye. But where is she now?”

“Inside an Infinity Stone.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Calm yourself,” Loki smiled, his hands out in a stopping gesture. “She attempted to use one and it swallowed her up. She’s trapped for the foreseeable future - in a prison of her own making.”

Thor wagged a finger at him. “And how did you engineer that?”

“Me?” he asked with utmost innocence. “I did nothing.”

“Hmm,” he managed with suspicion. “But apart from Amora, who knows you have these stones?”

“Angela, Valkyrie, the Collector,” Loki said. “There was a group of people we passed as we were leaving. They told us where to find you.”

“Yes - Rabbit and Tree’s friends,” he nodded. “And they know you have them all?”

“They probably think I have the two from Thanos’ gauntlet. They didn’t ask how many and I didn’t volunteer the information.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Thor gazed at him, then nodded. “Ah. Is _that_ what all this was about? Not stopping Thanos to save a universe, or even our own people, but to get the stones?”

“And there is it,” Loki said with an accusing, vindicated smile, his hands out to gesture to Thor. “The fact that I prised the stones from a madman and brought them to the one place where I _knew_ you would be can _only_ mean I want them for myself. Do you see _now?_ Always the guilty-before-proven-innocent party, aren’t I? And you wondered why I didn’t say hello.”

Thor’s face clouded. “But…”

“Or no, let me guess - you think _this_ explanation right now is me somehow making you believe I did this to save a universe, so that later I can double-cross you and every one of the Asgardians and slave-gladiators left alive, and walk away with Infinity Stones. Which is it, _brother?_ ” he demanded.

Thor’s mouth opened but he didn’t have words. He shook his head, then looked around the hangar as if searching for help. “I wanted to believe you brought them here to give them up. I wanted to trust you. But a part of me… will always suspect you.”

Loki smiled, but this time it was with genuine relief. “The truth, then. I’ll take that. And… you wouldn’t really be much of a king if you _did_ just believe me.” He paused, watching Thor nod ruefully. “I don’t want the stones any more than you do but we need to find a safe place for them this time. If one man can track them down and collect them like children’s toys then we must either destroy them or hide them better.”

Thor studied him. “Really?”

Loki threw his hands out. “Fine. I don’t care if you believe me. I don’t care if _anyone_ believes me - not any more. Do whatever you need to do.” He turned to walk to the ship.

“Mother.”

Loki stopped dead. “ _Your_ mother.”

“Frigga, then. She always believed in you. She always thought you could put your talents to good use. Wasn’t that why she spent so much time teaching you everything she knew?”

Loki didn’t turn. “I’m not doing this for her.”

“Then who?”

Loki turned and looked at him. Thor had expected anger, but instead he saw weariness. “I just want it back as it _was_. I want Asgard back when Odin was younger, when you and I were barely a hundred years old, when you were stupid and easy to manipulate into fights, when people thought I was just the ‘second son’ and unimportant. I want it all erased - right back to when our fights were just playground shin-kicking. I want Frigga back, and I want it to be _easy_ again.”

Thor smiled. “No, you don’t. You like it how it is. You like people expecting you to be the bad guy so you can turn around and do something altruistic just to confuse them. You want Asgard gone so all your crimes are wiped out. You _never_ wanted Odin around - you banished him to a rest home on Earth so you could pretend to be him to rule Asgard, Loki. Don’t pretend you want anything to do with him.”

Loki looked at his feet. “I never said I wanted _him_ back. But…” He paused. “But some of his last words to us were calling us both his sons. _Both_ of us, Thor.” He didn’t look up. “And that made me think. I was angry with him for a long time, for lying to me, for shielding me from what I could have been. But in the end… he still considered me a real, actual son to him.”

“We all did,” Thor said quietly.

“Did,” Loki said. He looked up, smiling ruefully. “Did.” He laced his hands in front of him, rocking on his heels. “So what do we do now?”

“You give me the three stones and then you do whatever you want.”

Loki inclined his head. “Ok then.”

“What?” he blinked.

“Of course you can have them. Were you not listening?”

Thor folded his arms. “You’re just going to hand them over?”

“Yes. There’s just one _tiny_ thing I have to do first.”

“ _Loki_ —”

“Oh don’t worry, brother - you’re going to help me.”

 

 


	13. We Have a New Plan

 

 

Loki rounded the end of the ship to find a rather short gentleman covered in fur, sat on the kerb next to it. He was humming to himself as he patiently unscrewed something currently attached to the back of the vessel.

“Excuse me,” Loki said.

The animal turned his head and looked up. “Oh, hey. What can I do you for?”

“Who are you, and why are you taking a stabiliser control box from the end of that ship?”

“Who are you and why do you care?” he asked amiably.

Loki smiled. “It’s mine.”

“Nah - these are junkers. They don’t belong to anyone.”

“No - this one is now _mine_.” He reached down and took the stabiliser control box from the animal’s hand. “And I’ll thank you to stop dismantling it. I need it.”

“Yeah but I need it more.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “You want a ship that’s much faster than this, with much better navigation capability, so that you and your arboreal friend can find your crew on Knowhere. However the stabiliser control box you’re attempting to borrow from this vessel will not help such a ship.”

The animal slotted his screwdriver tool into a convenient pocket on his work jacket and stood up. “Yeah? And who died and made you the god of knowing stuff?”

“That’s a long story that we don’t really have time for.”

He folded his arms. “Right. What’s your name?”

“Loki.”

“Rocket.” He put his paw out to shake.

Loki looked at it, then the stabiliser control box still in his hand. “You’re not getting this back.”

Rocket laughed and withdrew his hand. “I like you, Loki.” He sat down again. “I don’t want that stabiliser, you’re right. I was just bored.”

Loki reached up and sat the part high on the rear of the ship. “I thought you were on your way out of here?”

“So did I. Now I’m going to have to wait for your pirate-angel brother and friends to finish their war meetin’ so Groot can tear himself away from the sexy one in the white outfit.”

“Valkyrie.”

“Yeah, her.”

Loki frowned. “You mean he’s smitten with her?”

“If that means ‘follows her around with his tongue hanging out’ then yeah.” He huffed. Loki looked around, weighing something up. Then he came around and sat next to him on the kerb. “I’m telling you, man,” Rocket went on, “the whole mating thing is annoying.”

“Entanglements?” Loki ventured, his voice quiet, speculative.

“Yeah - them.”

“They are messy and unnecessary.”

“Absolutely.”

“And they make you vulnerable.”

“Damn straight.” Rocket glanced at him. “You like her too?”

“Me? No. Not my type. Too… conscientious.”

“I hear you,” Rocket nodded. “What about the other one?”

“What other one?”

“The tall woman - long hair, looks like she could rip the arms off a fully-grown Groot.”

Loki leant his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “No.”

“Ah, come on, man, I seen her looking at you,” Rocket smiled, elbowing him. Loki frowned at him in disgust, but Rocket was grinning now. “She’s watching you, like she thinks you’re about to try and steal somethin’ of hers - like the kind of thing that you can’t just buy a new one, if you get my meanin’.”

“She’s under the mistaken impression that I have an ulterior motive.”

“A what now?”

“A secret self-serving reason for doing what I do.”

“Well don’t everybody?” Rocket asked.

Loki smiled, giving a slight _eh-he-he-he_ chuckle under his breath. “I think I like _you_ , Rocket.”

“Yeah well. Watch that warrior woman, Loki. She either wants to break you in half or do that anyway but make you enjoy it.”

Loki said nothing, instead looking up at the side of the ship.

 

. . .

 

The bunting went up between gaily painted houses in lovely straight lines, weighed down in the middle by nothing but happy words and good cheer.

Korg put his hands on his hips and looked up at the line currently being strewn from open windows. “Great idea, Loki,” he said to himself. “Keep them happy and keep them protected at the same time.”

Balturm, standing next to him with a digital clipboard and a look of satisfied boredom on his face, cleared his throat. “Sir - how does this do both?”

“Well one half of the city thinks the refugees are a burden, right?” Korg said. “The other half thinks we’re here to steal land or possessions. So we have a party to keep everyone happy - a whole-day festival where everyone can get to know each other, swap stories, tell them about their mum. That breaks down walls faster than that incredible green fella.”

“And the protected bit?”

“Well they can’t start fights or riots when they’re too busy talking about mums, can they?” Korg reasoned.

“Right.”

“I tell you what, mums are the way forward. No-one gets upset when talking about mums.”

“If you say so,” Balturm shrugged.

“You’ll see, Dave, you’ll see,” Korg nodded. “Now then, we get the carts of food and drink ready and when the sun starts to go down, we kick things off with a barbecue. Everyone loves barbecues.”

“Except vegans.”

“Yes they do - we’ve got veggies to roast and everything,” Korg said off-hand.

Balturm watched him walk off. “Loki really does think of everything.”

 

. . .

 

“—And in return I promised him ownership of their tiny kingdom and absolute power for as long as he wanted it,” Loki shrugged.

“ _No_ \- and did the sap go for it?”

“Oh yes.”

Rocket laughed out loud, clapping his hands. “And you walked away with the magical flute thing?”

“That was the deal.”

“You - you - you just walked away with it - for free!” he laughed.

“Of course he was unhappy when he _actually_ checked the terms of the deal.”

“Why was that? Don’t tell me you lied to his face?”

“Absolutely not,” Loki tutted. “He failed to specify the time frame whereby he wanted it to come to fruition, and I did not press the matter.”

Rocket nearly fell over backwards, such was his belly-laugh. “You genius!” he cried. His paw went out and he patted at Loki’s arm. “I mean you talk funny, but you’re a man after my own heart.”

Loki put his palms up in surrender. “I promise I have no plans to acquire any of your internal organs.”

Rocket just laughed harder. “I like you, man. You should hang out with us for a while, on Peter’s ship.”

“What’s all this?” asked a voice.

The two of them turned in their makeshift seats to see Valkyrie behind them.

“Oh, hey. Has Groot stopped drooling over you yet?” Rocket asked.

She smiled, walking round to his left side and thinking about sitting. “He has. We talked about it. He understands - I think.”

“Fifty bucks says he acts like a stroppy teenager for the next _month_ ,” Rocket scoffed.

She looked at Loki. “Well?”

“Well what? If you and my brother have finished whatever it is you thought was so important, can we go now?” Loki shot back.

She smiled. “We’re done.” She looked down at Rocket. “And you? Are you hitching a ride with us or going back to your ship on Knowhere?”

“You know, part of me really wants to go with my new friend Loki, here,” he sighed. Valkyrie’s eyebrows raised all by themselves. “But I should go find my crew. I mean, who knows what trouble they’re getting into without their captain,” he went on.

“Heavy is the burden of being you,” Loki commiserated. Valkyrie rolled her eyes.

“Of being _us_ ,” Rocket corrected. He stood up. “Well, gotta go. Look after yourself, man,” he said, reaching out and patting Loki’s shoulder. “If you’re ever in the market for a crew who can get stuff at short notice, you let me know.”

Loki twisted to look at him, almost eye height. “Thank you, Rocket. That’s most kind.”

“Oh it ain’t kindness,” Rocket grinned. “Me and my crew are good at doing jobs that get us paid, and with you on the team it would be like taking candy from babies.”

Loki grinned. “ _Thank_ you, Rocket. That’s most kind.”

Rocket laughed, patted again, and turned to go. “See ya ‘round, Loki. Happy hunting, Valkyrie!” He waved a paw over his shoulder as he walked off.

Loki got to his feet slowly. “Well?” he asked.

They heard boots and looked over to see Thor approaching. “Brother,” he announced. “There’s something we have to do before we can leave here.”

Loki sagged. “There’s _always_ something. What is it? The dwarves want paying for your new axe? Can’t you just show them a few tricks with your lightning sparkles so we can go?” he asked testily. Thor’s face lost all pretence at humour. Loki cleared his throat quietly. “Ok, what?”

Thor gestured around them. “Thanos was here. He killed everyone bar Eitri, destroyed the mechanism for harnessing the star’s power. We need to fix this before we leave.”

“No,” Loki said flatly.

“We promised Asgard would protect them - we promised them safety.”

Loki stood straighter. “And like children they believed you. It was not _Asgard’s_ place to promise something they could not deliver, brother, and it is not for us to now right their arrogance.”

Thor appraised him. “Yes, it is.” He paused. “Had I been there, I would not have made such a promise without some way to back it up. But I’m king of Asgard now. I have to do _something_.”

Loki looked at the floor. “Everyone bar Eitri is dead?”

“Yes.”

“And the furnaces don’t run?”

“Have you heard them whilst we’ve been here?”

Loki considered for a moment, then huffed. “Then he’ll fix them. He has done before. I don’t see why _we_ have to help.”

Thor looked at Valkyrie, just about keeping his anger in check. “Can you excuse us, please?”

“Of course - my king,” she teased. She didn’t look at Loki before turning and leaving.

The moment she was out of earshot Thor took a irritated step toward Loki. “Now listen here, you little sh—”

Loki’s hands went to his hips. “This isn’t fair,” he snapped. Thor stopped short, surprised. Loki flicked an angry index finger up at Thor’s face, making the wider man step back one. Loki’s face was pale with anger. “I had a big plan for this - we weren’t supposed to be here when we talked about it. Then Nidavellir and Xandar would magically be fixed and everyone would believe it was the death of Thanos that repaired everything.”

Thor blinked. “You had a big plan?”

“Remember who you’re talking to,” Loki snapped.

“No - I meant you’d _included_ Nidavellir and Xandar in your plans?”

Loki’s lips went very thin and his hand dropped. “If you don’t want my help, then fine.” He lifted his left hand and two coloured stones and a metal ball appeared in his palm. “Take the stones. Use them as you will.”

Thor eyed him for a long moment. He looked again at the gems. Then back at Loki’s angry eyes. “I… What is this plan?”

Loki glared at him. “We need to be in a ship for it to work. And yes - it includes Nidavellir and Xandar.”

“Then… I’m sorry.”

Loki’s mouth worked for a second. He stepped back one, his entire demeanour turning to one of wariness. He looked Thor up and down with something bordering on outrage. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry. I misjudged you.” He hesitated long enough for Loki to stare, confused. “I mean… You killed Thanos. _Thanos_ ,” Thor went on. “I…” He huffed, looking at his feet, then back at his brother. “I was going to find him and kill him, because I believed he had killed _you_ , and Heimdall, and… so many people. But here you are, avenging your own ‘death’ and saving a universe.”

“To be fair, the saving-the-universe part was an agreeable side effect,” Loki allowed. “My main concern was killing Thanos so he couldn’t destroy a universe. I happen to like it the way it is - in desperate need of good leadership.”

“Everyone will believe, when they find out _you_ killed him, that you did it to steal the stones. You and I will believe it was to get revenge. Cold, black-hearted, murderous revenge.”

“You left out ‘selfish’,” Loki said, amused.

“And that,” Thor smiled. “But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t _all_ about revenge. I mean, didn’t you feel just a little good about stopping so much harm that could have come to the universe?”

“You’re still trying to find a tiny amount of good in me, aren’t you?” Loki asked curiously. “Don’t. You won’t find it.”

“I think I already have. You didn’t have to stop Surtur by throwing his crown into the eternal flame as I asked. You didn’t have to come back for us to save Asgardians in Korg’s ship at all. And yet you did.”

“Hela was going to keep after us until she was dead, and the Commodore ship was nearly out of fuel,” he shrugged.

“Right,” Thor said, unconvinced. “You know, Angela said you weren’t as bad as all that. Of course I don’t want to believe her - she may be just a little biased,” he said, raising his thumb and forefingers to indicate an inch. “I mean, she still thinks you’re just misunderstood.”

“What has Angela got to do with this?” he asked stiffly.

“Oh come on, Loki. You think I can’t tell when someone’s fallen under your spell? Or you someone else’s?”

“How _dare_ you,” Loki snarled.

Thor grinned. “See? Honestly, brother - it’s been hundreds of years. I don’t even remember the last time you looked at anyone twice. Well, save that soldier lad - the clever one, do you remember?”

“Is there something resembling an end to this conversation?”

“No.”

“ _Can_ there be?”

Thor grinned. “And you still think of it as a weakness.”

“Well that ridiculous Jane Foster made _you_ weak,” he snapped.

“That’s your opinion, right or wrong,” Thor shrugged. “The truth may or may not be very different.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve changed.”

“Recently I’ve had cause to reflect on the last millennium,” he said. “You should do the same.”

“No-one tells me what to do.”

Thor’s grin went wider. “I believe that’s one thing that will _never_ change.” He looked around. “So what do we do now? Trade playground insults and waste more time? Or do we get on with your plan?”

Loki considered him for a moment. “We need a ship. Let’s just go.”

“Right.” He nodded, watching Loki walk past him and away. “Although the playground insults were fun, weren’t they? Maybe we could do that _and_ your plan, brother. Like the good old days. Except this time I’d _know_ we were in the middle of one of your plans.”

“Are you coming or not?” Loki called from way in front. “Does all that muscle make it difficult to walk fast?”

Thor chuckled. “Like old times.”

. . .

 

Valkyrie fired up the engines, checking all the dials and read-outs. “Ok! Looks good!” she called.

“We’re on the way up,” was Thor’s reply from some kind of speaker buried in the console in front of her. She gave up trying to work out where that was exactly and instead concentrated on finding the right controls to navigate the ship. She turned the pilot’s chair to her left, surveying and reading, then to her right, finding useful things like weapons controls. She smiled.

Outside the ship, Loki had his hands on his hips and a face that spoke of repressed impatience. “Any time,” he called politely.

Thor was a good twenty feet away, talking with Eitri. The dwarf knelt down to be closer to the relatively tiny Asgardian, putting an iron hand on his shoulder and saying something. Thor nodded, patted at him, and they parted. Thor waved at him and then hefted his new axe, carrying it back to the ship and the waiting Loki.

“Right, ready,” Thor said. “Rabbit and Tree send their regards, but they’ve gone.”

“Who?” Loki asked, clueless.

“My friend Rabbit - and Tree.”

“You mean Rocket and Groot?”

“Who?”

“Just - can we go?” Loki asked.

Thor patted his shoulder as he passed him, walking up the ramp and into the ship. He turned left at the top, marvelling at the high ceilings to the corridors, the emptiness of the wide rooms he passed, the amount of space just waiting for someone to use.

“Are we clear?” Valkyrie asked. Her voice boomed through all the speakers around the ship, in every room.

“We are,” came Loki’s response, presumably through the same sound system. “Let’s go. Use the co-ordinates I gave you.”

“Yeah - and where are we going again?”

“To the co-ordinates - it’s not a secret,” Loki snapped.

Thor smiled to himself, continuing to wander the ship. Eventually he came to the cockpit door, and pressed a small button to make the door slide open. He found Valkyrie in the pilot’s chair, nothing but a vast starfield in the window in front of her.

She turned the chair. “Hi. So far, so good.”

He went to another chair by the consoles and sat. “Do we know where we’re headed?”

“I have _co-ordinates_ ,” she intoned, making him smile. “I don’t know what’s there, but at least I know where we’re going.”

“How long will it take?”

“About…” She read the dials and tiny windows carefully. “Maybe a few hours?”

“Fine,” he nodded. He sat back in the chair.

She looked over at him. “Have you been walking the ship?” she asked knowingly.

“Apparently it’s something a leader should do before using a vessel.”

“How do you know that?”

“Loki told me.”

“So how does _he_ know that?” she smiled.

“I find it’s best not to ask,” he smiled back.

“Speaking of Loki… are you sure this plan of his is a good idea?”

“If I knew what his plan was I’d be able to answer that.”

Her mouth fell open. “You don’t even know what it is?”

“Nope.” He swung his chair to and fro slowly. “But… I’m trying an experiment.”

“What? ‘Give Loki the reins and hope he doesn’t kill us all’?”

He put his elbows on the arm rests, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I think if he’s given a little bit of trust, he’ll like it. And he’ll want it again. And maybe he’s not the same as he used to be.”

“There are some things that never change,” she said, turning her chair to look out of the window. “Death, taxes, and Loki’s nature.”

“Maybe,” Thor said quietly, as if to himself. “Maybe.”

 

 


	14. Both of us knowing love is a battlefield

 

Angela stood by the window, watching the far away stars hover in place. She realised her eyes had glazed over, that she was no longer looking through, but at her reflection.

She noticed something next to her in the window and turned.

Loki was standing in the doorway behind her, looking at his feet.

“What?” she asked quietly.

His eyes came up and landed on her. “These ships are huge, aren’t they?”

“Built, I think, for dwarves,” she said, a slight smile on her face.

“Yes. I suppose they are.” She watched him but he simply looked back at her. “You can come in, Laufeyjarson. This room isn’t mine anyway.”

He took a step in but then paused. His eyes darted from left to right, as if counting doors and sizing up windows.

“Get in here properly.” She folded her arms. “What have you done now?”

He frowned. “Why do you assume I’ve done something wrong?”

“Haven’t you?”

“I believe it was just yesterday that we all worked together to bring down a Titan, and then I killed him,” he said, his voice like ice. “Since then I don’t believe I’ve done _anything_ wrong, and this whole accusation thing is getting really quite tiresome.”

She nodded slowly. “Then I’m sure I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

He took a few more steps into the room, taking in the giant bed and furnishings in one corner, the chair on his left whose seat was higher than his head. “I promised. I’m delivering.”

“What?”

He came closer, stopping just a few feet away from her. “Just hear me out and don’t jump to conclusions,” he said.

She frowned. “That sounds ominous. —What have you don—”

He raised his chin, his face describing exactly how much patience he had left.

She bit her lip. “Then… I will hear you out, and not jump to conclusions.”

He sniffed casually, then his hands swept around in a circle between them. A large black cloth, at least two feet long and a foot high, appeared in his hold. He held it out to her.

She put her hands to it, finding it unexpectedly heavy. She let it go to sit back in his hands, surprised now how he simply held it up as if weighed nothing. Pulling back the black cloth, she caught the glint of something golden inside. It made her pause but only for a moment. Then she yanked all the cloth back in a hurry, making Loki smile, to find a large gauntlet now bereft of stones.

“Loki…” She felt all of her breath leave her, the sight of such an important prize making her stare. She managed to pull herself together. “You did not promise me this.”

“I think I did.”

“Not to me.” She looked at him.

He shrugged as if he cared neither way. “It would go to waste if it were left in Tivan’s collection, and I’m trying a new thing - delivering the spirit of the promise rather than the catch to it.” He paused, realising she was still staring at him. “What?”

She took it from him, lifting it and admiring it. “Why should I want such a trophy of battle?”

“You can have it melted down and made it into anything. I was thinking armour.”

She carried it carefully to the window, setting it on the ledge where it met the floor. “I did not take you at your word. I apologise.”

“What?”

She turned to see his surprised face. It made her smile. “When you offered me this, when we were on the refugee ship, saying everyone else would get stones - I did not believe you actually intended to make it happen. I apologise.” She came back over, her eyes on the metal grating between them. “I spoke with your brother. I may have given him the impression that you are not what you appear.”

“That news is about… nine hundred years too late.”

She smiled. “Why armour?”

“Pardon?”

“Why armour? I could have it made into anything - why armour?”

“Well forgive me for saying, but you do seem to make it your business to get into a fair amount of battles. Armour would be useful.” He paused, eyeing her with uncertainty. “And… it would protect you. If you found yourself on a battlefield by yourself, I mean.”

“You mean without anyone by my side?”

“Yes.”

“Because you have experience in this area.”

“Some, yes.”

“And what do you think of when you are alone in battle, Laufeyjarson?” she asked quietly, taking a step closer. “Armour? A bigger weapon?”

“If I’m honest, a safe exit.”

She grinned. “Ah but surely you need armour or a bigger weapon to _make_ a safe exit.”

“Or before the battle even begins, you lay foundations for a way out at every opportunity.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“Thank you,” he blinked, puzzled. “I think.”

“The gauntlet is stunning and invaluable. I may keep it as it is - as a trophy.”

“It’s yours to do with as you will, Angela.”

“Then… why?” she asked quietly.

“Why what?”

“Truly, why did you give it to me? Why not leave it with the Collector, or sell it to your friend Rocket?”

“My acquaintance Rocket would have no use for it, and the Collector had nothing of value to give me in exchange.”

Her hand came up to his face. He just watched her warily. “You know what I’m asking you, Loki.”

“Apparently I don’t.”

She stared. Hard. He simply lifted his eyebrows at her in polite disinterest. She huffed slightly though her nose. “Did you deliberately give _me_ a gift? That I would enjoy?”

“It looks that way.”

“ _Why?_ ”

He ‘oh’ed with a great deal of theatrical realisation. “You think that I’m giving you a gift of affection, or out of some kind of feeling for you.”

“Aren’t you?”

“You mean looting a battleground and giving the spoils to a warrior who can make use of them is a sign of affection? You and my brother are much too like - everything is emotional attachment and _sentiment_ with you.”

“You’re saying there’s no affection there at all?”

“None at all, I can assure you,” he said smoothly, his face a defiant smile.

Her hand slipped from him. “I believe you,” she said, somewhat sadly. “What are your plans? What are you up to now?”

He attempted to look down his nose at her, but she was so close to his own height he failed admirably. He settled for reverting to a wary expression. “The final part of everything we planned on that refugee ship.”

“Why? What’s in this for you?”

“Freedom.”

She watched his eyes. “Is that all?”

“Well… yes.” He paused. “Although there’s the added bonus of you getting your armour through Nidavellir being restored.”

She put both hands to his face and pulled him closer. She kissed him, all of her appreciation of his nature, her relief in his honesty, her amusement at his subterfuge, condensed into a simple physical act that appeared to catch him off-guard.

Eventually she eased him away.

He appeared surprised - worried. And then he kissed her back.

He put a hand to her shoulder and pushed her back abruptly. “What is this weakness?” he whispered.

She smiled. “How is it weakness, when it will bring back a planet - and all the people?”

“This is - this is not what will bring back a planet,” he scoffed, taking a step back.

“Why are you _really_ restoring Nidavellir?” she challenged, her face angry. “For fame? For glory? For the adoration of all who hear that it was _you_ who did it? Or just so I can have armour for when you’re not around?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you,” he snapped.

“No, but you want to. Why?”

His mouth opened but faltered.

She smiled and grabbed the collar of his leathers over his chest. “You are adorable when you are lost for words, God of Mischief.”

“How very dare you,” he accused.

She grinned at him - and gave a deliberate shove.

He staggered back a step. Then frowned and shoved roughly at her shoulders in indignation.

Her hand came up to swipe for his face; he snatched at her wrist and held it fast. Her other ripped a sai from its place on her thigh and flipped round to sit back against her forearm. She swung it round.

His free hand raised and a dagger in it blocked her swing. She pressed with the blade. He grunted something and heaved back. They both leapt back, watching the other warily.

“Now, Angela,” he warned, the dagger up in one hand, the other out as if it helped track her movements. “We both know how this is going to end.”

She feinted to his left. He swooped back then lunged forward, narrowly missing her shoulder with the tip of his blade.

“And how is that?” she asked, watching him turn in place to keep her dead centre.

“Something of mine ending up in you. We _do_ have other things to do today.”

She grinned. “ _There’s_ that silver tongue.”

“That’s not the thing I meant—”

She swiped at him. He took a nimble step back, then pressed forward. Something sliced at her cheek. She laughed, a low, wicked sound of enjoyment.

He cleared his throat. “Stop doing that voice. It’s not fair.”

“What, this?” she asked, then laughed again.

“You’re making things very hard,” he said, his face one of anger.

She drew her other sai, arming her left hand. “Oh I hope so,” she breathed.

“Look, this is pointless,” he said casually. “You know I always win.”

She gasped in surprise. “When have you _ever?_ ”

“Every time!”

“I was there. I wouldn’t call them wins,” she teased.

He lunged forward. The arc of his dagger barely missed her eye before it sunk into her left forearm. She dropped the sai but her right hand came up. His left elbow went into her face.

She dropped to one knee. He towered over her, knocking her other sai from her right hand. He grabbed her jaw and tipped her face back to look him in the eye. “You see?” he oozed. “I always win.”

Her left hand gripped his ankle. He frowned at the feel. She grinned and yanked with strength he had clearly forgotten she possessed. He went over backwards, his head smacking into the floor.

She ripped the dagger from her arm and slammed it down toward his collarbone.

His hands shot up. They grabbed her wrist. “Now - Angela—” he grunted in effort.

“Stop doing that voice,” she growled. “It’s not fair.”

He grinned suddenly; a grunt of effort was seamlessly converted into a shameless _eh-he-he_ chuckle directed completely at her.

She fumed and pressed harder. “You will not win this one, Laufeyjarson.”

Still grinning, he brought up a knee and swept her sideways. The sai clattered to the floor. Her hand grasped his hair at the back of his head and _yanked_ with all her strength. She brought her own knee and elbow out and shoved, rolling them over.

He was propelled to one side. Before he knew it she was under him. A scrape of metal and he felt a steel tip under his jaw. He hissed in air and froze. “I’ll still win,” he managed.

“You can take this win. I’ll still take the victory,” she grinned.

His face dropped in outrage. His hand flicked at the length of the blade. It was turned up out of harm’s way as he grabbed her wrist and slammed it to the floor over her head. She raised her other but he gripped that one too, keeping it out by her side. He brought his face down to pause a mere inch from hers. “Are you so sure?” he rumbled.

She swallowed. And then her legs rose. They clamped round his middle and twisted. He was thrown over to his back; she sat over him. He gripped the chainmail at her sides for leverage. Her elbows hammered down and painfully removed them. She snatched at his wrists and they were trapped to the floor either side of his shoulders. She let go with one suddenly and then her sai was back. His free hand went up and tangled in her hair. She brought the longest tip of the sai to his cheek. His hand paused but did not let go.

“Hmm,” she breathed in appreciation.

He watched her until a sly grin covered his face in a way that made her heart leap.

She traced the tip of the sai down his cheek slowly, then under his jaw. “Such a perfect face,” she whispered. Her eyes flicked up to his, as the blade went back up, this time detouring to the skin behind his ear. She drew it down the side of his neck, watching it press in enough to make the skin give, but not enough to cut.

“I’ll never surrender,” he warned, his voice incredibly low, smooth.

She grinned, meeting his eyes, and he was struck by the sudden light to them. “I would never want you to.”

He pulled on her hair. She leant on the blade.

And then it was a race to see who could get whose clothes off first.

 

. . .

 

Thor swung the chair, looking around the cockpit, playing with some kind of shot metal bar in his hands. “Weird.”

“What is?” Valkyrie asked, sounding very sleepy in the pilot’s chair.

“This whole vessel has giant-sized everything,” he commented. “And yet this cockpit was made for tiny people like us.”

“Maybe dwarves aren’t pilots.”

“That’s racist.”

“That’s what I get from the cockpit not fitting dwarves into it.”

He pointed the bar at her with his left hand. “Good point.” A beeping sound made him sit up slowly. “What’s that?”

Valkyrie took her feet off the console and sat up, sniffing to herself and wheeling her chair closer to the controls. “We’ll be at the co-ordinates in a few minutes.”

“Good! This is taking _ages_.”

“Patience, King,” she teased.

“I just want a good meal and some decent mead,” he groused.

“You mean even you need to eat sometimes?” she smiled. “I’ll tell the masses: ‘Thor not actually a god - he needs his food or he gets arsey’.”

“I could make you a leader,” he offered.

“Of your armies? No thanks.”

“No, of the serving people in the great hall I’ll build wherever we found a new Asgard.”

“Arsehole.”

“That’s _King_ Arsehole to you,” he said with a grin.

She shook her head, then looked out of the window. “Well whatever is at these co-ordinates it’s either really small or invisible.” She pressed buttons and the vessel gave a low groaning sound. “I’ll take us in carefully - who knows what’s waiting for us.”

“Loki does.” He got up and dropped the apparently useless bar to to the console. He went for the cockpit door. It slid open and he bounced back a step. “Ah, there you are.”

Loki was standing right in front of him, his hand raised as if about to open the door. “Uh - yes,” he managed in surprise. “Are we there yet?”

Thor stood to one side and watched him walk in, and then up to the passenger chair. He sat himself down and began reading everything his eyes could find.

“Where have you been?” Thor asked lightly.

Loki did not look round. “Waiting impatiently for these co-ordinates.”

Valkyrie looked up at Thor, as he wandered around and came to lean on the headrest at the back of Loki’s chair. “And… doing what?” he asked.

“Waiting, as I said,” Loki said shortly.

“I see,” Thor allowed. “It’s been hours.”

“As I know all too well from watching the chronometer.”

“Is that all?”

Loki turned the chair around, dislodging his brother’s lean. “It’s almost as if you don’t trust me. What havoc could I possibly wreak on a ship with nothing but power to the engines and life support, in the middle of nowhere?”

“No, I was just concerned for your safety,” Thor said with a wide, shit-eating grin.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Well that would be a first.”

“I mean, whatever you were doing has caused a _huge_ scratch down the side of your neck, there,” he said, waving a finger in the vague direction. “Looks nasty. Doesn’t it sting? It looks like it goes… all the way under your leather. How strange, given that I thought you wore that to help _deflect_ damage.”

Loki put a hand up to touch his neck, but when he brought his fingers away there was no injury. “You’re mistaken.”

“Nope, I know what I saw,” Thor said conversationally. “I think it’s great. It’s about time.”

“Shut it,” Loki snapped.

“Of _course_ , brother,” he said with a wide grin. He landed a heavy hand on his shoulder, shaking slightly. “I’m happy for you, that’s all.”

“Why? What’s he done now?” Valkyrie asked suspiciously.

Loki raised an accusing finger at Thor. “If you _speak_ this whole plan is off,” he seethed.

Thor raised his hands in surrender and pursed his lips, nodding with his most serious face.

Loki swished the chair round in barely-restrained anger. Valkyrie looked from him to Thor. He simply looked back at her and winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Ok - whatever is happening here, I don’t care. What’s at these co-ordinates Loki, and why?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Absolutely nothing. It’s equidistant from anything and anyone. It’s perfect.”

“For what?” Thor and Valkyrie said together.

Loki got up from the chair and turned to Thor. “The best part of the plan.”

 

. . .

 

Thor walked into the cargo hold of the ship, looking up and just staring at the cavernous area, empty, echoing, _huge_. “They really do make these for dwarves, don’t they?”

Loki walked to his left, apparently unfazed by their surroundings. “They love to travel but can’t pilot ships; what did you expect them to build?”

“You mean they don’t pilot ships at all?”

“No, I mean they _can’t_ pilot ships. Haven’t you ever wondered how they’d accomplish that when they live in such a high number of dimensions, and space only needs four?”

“What?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “ _Anyway_ , this is the room we need.”

“For what?”

Loki looked around, making sure all the exits were shut and the few packing crates that were in the hold were strapped down. “You and I,” he said, lifting a hand to produce the two Infinity Stones not encased in a protective ball, “are going to bring back first Nidavellir, and then Xandar.”

“We are?”

“We are. However, much as it pains me to say this, I need your strength to help me. This is one thing I cannot do on my own.”

“Well well well,” Thor said, putting his hands on his hips, “the new Loki.”

“Ok, enough.”

“No, I mean it - doing this in secret, so no-one knows it was you. I’m impressed, Loki.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Does Angela know how altruistic you are these days?”

“Does your mouth _ever_ stop flapping?” Loki snapped. “You know, this would still work if I stabbed you and just _took_ the power I needed.”

“I was just teasing,” he said with a grin. “I promise I will not talk about her any more.”

“Good.”

“Because obviously there’s something going on there and it would not help to talk about it.”

“There’s _nothing_ ‘going on’.”

“Even though it’s a good thing and I think you two are perfect for each other.”

“Just stop.”

“Because, you know, she doesn’t just blindly follow what people think and you - well, you’ve spent your life knowing what people think and using it against them—”

“I have a knife.”

Thor chuckled. “Ok, I’m sorry. I hit a nerve, I can see that now. But you know brother, you really shouldn’t think of it as wea—” He gasped in air as pain registered in his left side. He looked down and found a small shiny dagger sticking out of it. “ _Loki!_ ”

“You were warned _so many times_ , Thor - what did you expect?”

Thor yanked the blade free, inspecting it for a second. Then he grinned and lifted it for Loki to see. “Hey - is this Angela’s? Is she lending you her most personal stuff now?”

Loki growled something and threw himself at his brother. They went down in a heap and fists and feet flew unchecked.

 

. . .

 

The music rang through all the streets, the people danced, sang and enjoyed themselves. As the last rays of the sun disappeared below the horizon and the lanterns started to stand out in the gloom, the partying raged on.

Korg found himself in the former Grand Master’s palace looking out over the streets. He smiled to himself, then turned and left.

He walked and walked, finding it a long trek from the top room to the dungeons, but eventually he was walking along the corridor. He approached the last lot of metal bars and looked in.

The former Grand Master himself was sitting on his prison bunk, turned side-on to the bars so he could angle his head up to the air vent in the ceiling. The sounds of music and happiness were filtering down the chimney-like vent and it seemed as though he were soaking them up.

“Hey man,” Korg ventured.

He turned and looked at him. “Oh hi. Come to gloat some more?”

“Nah, man. Just here to tell you that everything’s going ok. I know you were probably worried about your people and that, seeing as you were in here and no-one was in charge. But I’m in charge now, and I think it’s going ok. We’ve even got enough paper for pamphlets, if we need them.”

He waved a hand at him. “These people are nothing without me. They’ll be calling for my release before long.”

“Sorry man - no-one’s mentioned you.”

His face dropped. “Not even one person?”

“Well I did, when I got here and asked where you were. Oh - and a lady who said everyone was hanging out at your place and using it for parties and it was thanks to you being down here.” He paused. “But other than that…? Mmm… no-one, I think.”

He sagged on the bed. “I just don’t see why I’m not the centre of attention any more,” he moaned. “I gave them everything they wanted.”

“Maybe that’s the trouble, man,” Korg shrugged. “Maybe give them what they _need_ , not what they want.”

“Insightful,” he said thoughtfully. “Who told you that?”

“Loki.”

His face darkened. “That ingrate. I made him someone here, you know, and this is how I’m rewarded.”

“Well to be fair, you did kind of terrorise everyone here to the point of mutiny,” Korg said. “So there’s that.”

The former Grand Master folded his arms and pouted. “Whatever.”

“Ok then, good talk. Are you getting food ok?”

“If you can call it food.”

“I can. See you round, former slave-owner.” He waved a hand and walked off.

The former Grand Master huffed. “You wait till my brother hears about this! He could pay for my release you know! He’s rich! He has the biggest collection of stuff in the universe!” He paused. “I’ll pay you to get a message to him on Knowhere!”

Silence.

He sighed. Then he turned, put his hands on the bed, and again tuned into the music floating down the vent above his head. He smiled, then began to bob his head from side to side at the happy tunes.

 

. . .

 

Valkyrie and Angela wandered down to the cargo hold, Valkyrie checking the ship read-outs from a tablet in her hand. She stopped and pressed the button to the doors, opening just the one for them to look through.

“What in Hel has happened here?” she gasped.

Thor and Loki were sitting against one wall, covered in cuts and bruises. Loki’s hair looked like it had been through several hedges backwards, and Thor’s looked like it had wilted in either sympathy or sweat.

“Oh, hey,” Thor offered, waving a hand. “We were just talking.”

“Right,” Valkyrie said. “Well while you were ‘talking’, we were waiting. Is anything ever going to happen here?”

Loki dragged a boot up toward him, giving him a knee to rest his elbow on. “Presently.”

Thor nodded waved her away. “Leave us to it.”

“Are you sure?” Angela asked. “We have already ‘left you to it’ and we find you like this.”

“Yeah - you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with your Hulk friend,” Valkyrie said.

“Although the fact that you had any energy left to start a fight _with_ is impressive, Loki,” Angela offered.

There was a silence.

Thor cleared his throat. “We’ll get on with it - in a minute.”

“Ok, but I’m warning you - we have no food on this ship.” Valkyrie looked at Angela, who reached over and closed the doors.

Thor watched them shut then let his head tilt. “I still don’t understand why you’re so touchy. Angela’s nice - strong, respected - a reliable warrior, and certainly a worthy adversary for your wit. I mean she’s nothing like that soldier that you took a fancy to. What was his name?”

“Please stop talking,” Loki sighed wearily.

“No, hear me out - the soldier that was in charge of some detachment or other. Tall chap, not a lot of muscle to him but I guess he was quite smart in a way.”

“He was _very_ smart - unfortunately not enough to realise that being a solder would get him killed.” He paused. “Which it did. Can we talk about something else now?”

“Horses.”

“No - absolutely not. I am so incredibly done with your new-found lust for life, Thor,” he snapped. He pushed himself to his feet and then ran his hands through his hair to smooth it out. “Now let’s get on and do this.” He put a hand out and Thor grasped his wrist, and together they hauled him to his feet.

“So what do we do here?” he asked, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.

“I need to tell the stone what to do. You need to fuel it,” Loki said.

“Right. Yes. Got it.” He paused. “How do I do that?”

“Just… do what I tell you,” Loki said.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

 

 


	15. Surprise!

 

Valkyrie felt a bump to the metal plating, followed by a rocking and vibrating that made her sit up hastily and check all the read-outs on the console.

“What is it?” Angela asked from the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s… nothing here - no power problem with the engines, no trouble with seals or life support - there’s no reason for it.”

Angela frowned. “Perhaps Thor and Loki are causing it.”

“You mean _Loki_ is causing it,” she grumbled.

They looked at each other.

“Perhaps,” Angela realised as she got to her feet, “they are doing what we came here for.”

“Wait - I’m reading _a lot_ of energy going on in the cargo hold. I think they’re using the Infinity Stones.”

“Thor would not allow that.”

“He would,” Valkyrie countered. “He would if it was for a good reason - and he seems to think Loki has a good reason.”

Angela sat down slowly. “He said… he said he would bring back Nidavellir.”

“What? Who did?”

“Loki.”

“ _How?_ ”

“My first guess would be the stones. We saw him rebuild the ruined room on Knowhere after our battle with Thanos.”

Valkyrie sat back in the chair. “Yeah… good point. But… can he do that?”

“I think it takes more than one god to do this.”

“Loki’s not a god, he’s a frost giant,” she scoffed.

“Then he is half a god - Laufey was a goddess, after all.”

Valkyrie rolled this around her head. “Actually, that explains a lot.”

 

. . .

 

Thor and Loki leant against the wall, breathing hard and feeling particularly drained.

“Did it work?” Thor managed.

“Try - try Nidavellir,” Loki gasped.

Thor straightened up but Loki bent over and put his hands on his knees, still getting his breath back. Thor went to a control panel on the wall and pressed a button. “Hello? Valkyrie?”

“Hello,” came her surprised reply. “What’s happening? Energy levels in that room just went nuts.”

“Can you radio Nidavellir, please? See if Eitri responds.”

“Uh… ok. I thought they were without power.”

“They may not be now.” Thor let go of the button and looked back at Loki. “Now we wait.”

 

. . .

 

Eitri looked around, speechless. People were popping into existence all around him. They stared, first at each other, then at their own hands, in utter confusion.

He heard a familiar grinding noise and looked to the largest of the smelting vats. “Everyone get back! We have a live stream!” he called automatically.

People scrambled back out of the way as giant vats and their mechanical workings suddenly ground into life. Eitri spotted one woman too close to a metal beam, still not quite sure of her surroundings. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, dragged her back.

And then he stared at his hand.

“My _hand!_ ” he cried. He looked at them both, turning them over and over, as he realised they were no longer the metal replacements he had made but his original, real hands. “My hands!”

“Eitri - what’s happening?” someone called.

He grinned - then began to laugh. “They did it! They did it! They brought you all back! They brought _everything_ back!”

“Who?” the rescued woman asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Asgard! Asgard have killed Thanos, taken his gauntlet - and undid everything he caused! You’re all saved! Asgard has saved us!” he cried. And then laughed maniacally, as everyone else stood around, bemused.

“If you say so,” the woman said.

Eitiri wiped at his eyes. “Thor said - he said Asgard would protect us now. I dared to believe him. And he was right! Look! Look how you’re all alive!”

“I remember… dying,” she said. Her face fell. “It was… cold. I remember it all - I remember…” She paused. “Wait… no I don’t. It’s… fading. It’s disappearing… What is? What was I saying?”

Eitri went to her, took her hand. “Are you ok?”

“I… am,” she blinked. “I’m sorry - I don’t know what happened just then. But I’m fine, really.” She looked around. “Why is everyone standing around? Is this some kind of break?” She clapped her hands. “Everyone back to work! We have orders to fill and time’s a-wasting!”

Eitri faded back away from everyone, withdrawing to the wall. His fingertips stroked the wall unconsciously, enjoying the feeling of the roughness against his pads where there had been metal just a few minutes ago. He watched the dwarves go on about their work as if nothing had happened. He put his hands over his mouth, just watching, appreciating, still barely able to take it in.

A beeping noise made him look to the right. A woman was pressing buttons, leaning on a communications console. “Hey there. This is Nidavellir - how did you get this comms line?”

He ran over as fast as his legs would go, skidding to a halt next to her.

“Thor? Oh hello,” she went on, her tone turning much more accommodating. “Always nice to hear from Asgard. How’s it going?”

“I believe it’s all going very well,” came Thor’s voice from the console. “Is Eitri there?”

She turned. “He’s just arrived. Here you go.” She patted Eitri’s back and walked off.

Eitri leant over and grabbed the microphone arrangement currently sticking up like a periscope. “Thor! Thor you - you - _god!_ Tell that brother of yours that you two have done it! Everything and more! We have people again! People and - and my hands!” he cried.

Thor laughed from the other end of the connection. “That’s good to hear. We have to go - but remember; Asgard will be there for you. Hopefully we will never need to be, but you let us know if you ever need anything.”

“You mean if _you_ need anything, you let _us_ know!” Eitiri grinned, tears chasing each other down his face.

“Take care, Eitri. Till we meet again.”

“Yes! And tell Loki - thank you! A thousand thank yous!”

The line went dead.

Eitri turned and looked around at the busy smelting hall, at the people to-ing and fro-ing, at the sound and heat and smell of hot metal and happy dwarves. His head tilted back and he caught sight of Nidavellir itself, ignited, raging, powering the smelting vats. He felt more tears rolling down his face and realised people could see him.

Suddenly and completely, he really couldn’t care.

 

. . .

 

Thor looked back at Loki. “He sounds happy,” he grinned.

“As well he should,” Loki nodded seriously. “Now. One more - Xandar.”

“Xandar,” Thor nodded. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Xandar is bigger - and there are lots more people.”

“That won’t be the problem,” Loki said with discomfort. “It’s the stone trying to go one way when I want it to go another.” He looked at the purple gem in his hand. “We need more power than last time. Nidavellir is small, with only a few tens of thousands of people.”

“What do we do?” Thor asked. “We’re the only Asgardians.”

“ _You_ are,” Loki corrected. “And the two in the cockpit. But no, this isn’t about people.” He lifted his other hand to show off the blue stone. “This is about power.”

“Just use the Reality Stone,” Thor shrugged.

“Are you mad?” Loki tutted. “Even _I_ can’t touch it without repercussions worse than working with the other two stones.”

“What do you mean, repercussions?” Thor asked slowly.

“I mean I can’t use the Reality Stone, so these two will have to do,” he said, looking back at the purple and blue gems.

Thor wandered over slowly, his face concerned. “Can you handle two at once?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Loki said. He lifted his hand.

Thor grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

“What? Xandar should be restored.”

“I know. But… can you do this?”

Loki appraised him, his eyes going over his face, his mismatched eyes, his short hair. “What’s your concern here?”

“That this will be too much for you. That it will harm you.” He let go of him.

Loki snorted in contempt. “You think so little of me.”

“Loki I have seen you surmount… _incredible_ odds, and always survive,” he urged. “But this is different. I truly believed you dead just days ago. If you think this will be too much then…” He paused. “It’s a whole _planet_ , Loki.”

He tilted his head. “You’re saying I can’t do this? You just said I’ve overcome all kinds of odds.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But you’re saying I can’t do this.”

“ _No_ , I’m worried that you think you can and for some reason… it’s too much for one person.”

“So you _are_ saying I can’t do this.”

“Oh will you listen!” Thor exploded. “I am worried for your _life_ , Loki!”

He blinked. “Since when?”

Thor’s fists balled and he took a menacing step toward him. “Don’t act like you don’t care if you die or not.”

“I truly don’t,” he shrugged. “I mean, it’d be _nice_ if I didn’t. But—”

Thor’s fists opened up and he made the anger drain away. “This is me you’re talking to. You don’t have to pretend _all_ the time.” He paused. “You know, there was a moment - we were talking in the lift on Sakaar—”

“Yes and you made me do ‘get help’,” Loki accused. “Oh I’m sorry - have I interrupted your attempt to make me believe you care about my wishes or well-being?”

Thor glared for a moment. “We were talking in the lift, and there was a moment, just a tiny one, when you let your face do what it wanted instead of covering it up with all your neuroses. Just… get used to not doing that.”

Loki watched him, his face one of polite interest. “Where do you get all these big words? Do they even teach those in hammer-wielding school?”

“Fancy words are not restricted to people who spent all their time learning magicks and tricks from queens of Asgard,” he shot back.

Loki grinned - and Thor realised it was finally a genuine smile. All the anger, all the frustration, all the weariness at being left out of his younger brother’s emotional world was swept away in a second.

Then Loki looked at the stone in his hand, and Thor noticed the real display of emotion take cover again for fear of being seen. “It isn’t too much,” Loki said. “And even if it is - wouldn’t you rather have Xandar and its entire population back than me?”

Thor’s face turned angry. “Moron.”

“I’m joking,” Loki grinned. “I think.”

“Shouldn’t we rest first?” he asked.

Loki raised his eyebrows at him. “Resting really isn’t my style.”

Thor stretched his arms out, then shook them out at his sides. “Ok then. Same as before?”

“Same as before,” Loki nodded. “But more of it.”

“Right,” Thor nodded. He clenched his fists, felt the tingle of raw power surging over them in tiny crackles.

“You know, one day we will discuss how you summon lightning _in space_ ,” Loki smiled.

“We’re close to a nebula,” Thor said deliberately. Loki just looked at him. “Did you sleep through _all_ of the space mechanics courses during our schooling?”

“Not all,” he said defensively. “Just the ones that weren’t of any use.”

“How can you say they weren’t of use when your brother was literally the god of thunder?”

“Exactly; what use was that to _me?_ ” Loki pointed out. “You were this universally beloved god of magic weather. I was the ‘other one’, the also-ran, looked after by Frigga because Odin was too busy grooming you for the throne.”

Thor bit the side of his lip for a moment. “S-sorry.”

“Like it matters now,” Loki sighed. “Let’s just get this done, shall we?”

“Ok. Yep,” he nodded eagerly. “Although you do know that the also-ran is the only one powerful enough to hold two stones and use them at once.”

“And you can thank Laufey for that,” he said quietly.

“No. I’ll thank _you_ , when this is done, brother.”

Loki looked at him. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Then don’t look at the light.”

 

. . .

 

Valkyrie felt her chair _humming_ \- and turned to see Angela similarly moved by her seat. “Again?” she asked.

“Well Nidavellir is done,” Angela reasoned. “They must now be working on Xandar.”

“So soon? Don’t they want to stop for a pint first?” she asked.

“It appears not. Besides, we have no mead, or in fact alcohol, on board.”

Valkyrie grinned. “I _knew_ there was a reason I wanted them to hurry.”

The vibrating got worse - screens started to shake and tinkle, the consoles started to bump against each other. Valkyrie put a hand out to the console to steady herself. Angela got up and went for the door.

“Wait!” Valkyrie called. “I don’t think it’s safe to be so close when there’s this much energy going on in the cargo hold. The energy levels are over the top of all records.”

“But are _they_ safe?”

“Well they’re either gods or half-gods - they’re Æsir,” she said. “They might be able to handle it but we wouldn’t.”

“We are of Asgard. We can handle it.”

“Angela - give it five minutes. Please,” she urged.

Angela turned and appraised her. She nodded finally. “If you say so.” She went back to the chair, staggering slightly as she crossed the bucking deck. She dropped into the seat carefully.

“I can’t look at these,” Valkyrie said, leaning forward and switching off screens. “It just gets worse.” She snapped off the last one and then gripped the arm rests of her chair. “It _is_ getting worse! Why is this one taking so long?”

“Nidavellir was smaller, fewer people,” Angela said. Her voice was jumping and bumping with the vibrations from her chair. “Maybe it’s size and - and people that make it dif-difficult.”

“And yet Thanos did it with a f-flick of his fingers, or so I h-heard.”

“Thanos is d-dead, and good ridd-riddance,” she said. “There is no advantage in pr-praising his abilities.”

“I was just saying.”

“I understand,” Angela nodded.

Suddenly it all stopped.

It was silent for a long moment.

“Is that it?” Valkyrie dared.

Something clicked in the console. They both jumped.

And then Thor’s voice cut through. “Valkyrie - Angela! Get down here now.”

“What’s happened?” Valkyrie demanded, even as she leapt from her chair. “Is it the ship? Is there a breach into space?”

“It’s Loki.”

Angela and Valkyrie looked at each other.

And then they scrambled madly for the door.

 

. . .

 

Thor grabbed the leather of Loki’s top and yanked him to sit up on the dusty floor of the cargo hold. “Loki don’t be an arse,” he growled. “This isn’t funny.”

Loki’s head lolled back on his neck, his hands lying where they had fallen.

Thor slapped a large hand round the base of his skull hastily to support it. “I’m not falling for it this time,” he warned. “You open your eyes and stop this childish nonsense!”

He opened his mouth to say more but the breath caught in his throat; the skin of Loki’s face had begun to turn blue. As Thor watched, helpless, the blue tinge went deeper, until silver lines began to chase themselves over the face of his adopted brother, down his neck, under his leathers.

Thor heard the doors open and feet running on the decking. He couldn’t look away from the changing nature of Loki’s neck, his hands - everywhere turning blue.

“What in Hel…?” Valkyrie managed.

Angela came to a stop behind her. She pushed forward and knelt. She grabbed Lok’s throat. “No pulse,” she gasped. She looked at Thor. “What happened?”

“He said Xandar was harder - he used two stones at once,” he gabbled. “It was working - I think it worked - I think Xandar and all its people are back. But as soon as we were done he just fell.” He looked around the floor. “Valkyrie - the stones. Where are they?”

Valkyrie stepped back cautiously, searching the decking.

Angela let go of Loki’s neck. “Why is he not breathing?”

“I don’t know!” Thor cried angrily. “If I knew don’t you think I’d fix it!”

Angela pushed one of Loki’s eyelids up. She peered in, but the pupil had swivelled up a long time ago. She bit her lip. “I have seen this. This is how frost giants die.”

“It _cannot_ be how my brother dies!” Thor raged.

Her hand traced over the silver lines in the blue cheek. “But… He… still breathes.”

“No - no he’s _not_ breathing!” Thor shouted. “He’s dying! _Actually_ dying!” He felt his chest constricting, something crushing it without ever touching his skin.

“You misunderstand,” Angela said. “I have seen him go without breath for almost an hour.”

“What?” Thor managed, strangely weak in contrast to his fury. “What are you saying?”

She looked at Thor. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes! Yes! Just help him!” he raged.

She looked down at Loki. She grabbed his face in her hands. A deep breath was dragged into her chest and then she sealed her mouth over Loki’s. Her lungs bellowed air directly into him.

And then she pulled back. “Hold him!”

Thor braced Loki’s boneless body, confused.

Her fist came out in a straight jab that hammered into the insensate man’s chest. Thor winced, expecting the sound of cracking ribs, but there was nothing. She punched again.

Loki’s entire body jumped. As Thor stared, Loki’s eyes flew open and he fairly exploded in a desperate attempt to both cough and breathe at the same time. He gasped harshly, glaring at the ceiling with such an evil expression of intent it made everyone pause.

He coughed - then again harder. He put both hands to his head, his eyes scrunched shut, a guttural grunt of pain coming from every fibre of his being.

Thor held him up by the shoulder; Angela sat back on her knees in total relief.

But Loki still had his hands to his head. “Where is this?” he coughed. “Which one is this?”

“You’re ok,” Thor said hastily, keeping him up as he watched him pant in air and cough it out. “Loki you’re with us - it’s ok.”

“Which?” he rasped, his eyes opening. Bright red pupils looked out at them all. “Which one?”

“Which one what?” Angela asked. She put a hand on his other shoulder. His head snapped round and looked it.

“You’re with friends,” Thor said loudly, worried. “You’re with us, Loki. You’re back. You’re ok.”

His hands dropped as he took in the cargo hold and the people staring at him with concern. “The one with… the eye,” he breathed, looking at Thor. “The eye and the hair and…” His head swung, a little wobbly, to look at Angela. “And the warrior.”

“Loki - can you hear us? Do you know where you are?” Thor asked with a frown.

Steadily Loki’s skin began to turn more beige, then his more familiar pale imitation of Asgardian. “Stones… try to tick you,” he managed.

“You’re ok,” Thor said again urgently. “You’re back with us - with your friends.”

“Oh bilgesnipe’s _balls_ ,” Loki rasped. He put a hand up and wiped at his mouth in disgust. “Which one of you _degenerates_ put their mouth on me?”

“Me,” Angela said meaningfully.

Loki looked to Thor on his left. “Well at least it wasn’t you,” he groused.

Thor grabbed his leathers and shook him heartily, a huge grin on his face. “Loki! You nearly died!”

“It happens more often than you know,” Loki managed, then gripped at Thor’s arm. Between them they hauled him to his feet. “Have you tried Xandar yet?” he asked, somewhat breathlessly.

“Xandar?” Thor echoed. He kept a good hold of Loki’s shoulder. “No! We were trying to revive you!”

“Idiot,” Loki sighed. “Go try them. And then take a look out of the window.”

“What window? What are you talking about? Loki you nearly _died_ ,” Thor all but hurled into his face.

Loki pushed him back a step. “Believe me, I am aware. Now go and try Xandar. We need to know if it worked.”

“But are you—. I mean are you ok?” Thor asked, bewildered.

“Do I look ok?” he snapped. “Stop mothering me and check on the planet.”

“Then - then stay here. Don’t move,” Thor warned, pointing at him even as he turned and headed for the door. Valkyrie followed, and then Angela.

Loki waited, turning to survey the empty room. He walked very slowly over to two small round items on the floor. He bent over to get them but his legs gave out; he ended up sitting, one knee up to rest his elbow on, getting his breath back. His hand went out and captured the two wayward gems but the movement caused him to give an irritable ‘ _ak!_ ’ of pain. He let out a sigh of agony as he sat back.

“You are not alright.”

He didn’t even turn. “Angela,” he sighed. “Why couldn’t you have gone with them?”

“I wanted to be sure of your condition. But once again you have deceived everyone.”

“Well that’s me; the Trickster everyone loves to hate.”

She walked over and then crouched in front of him. “We do not hate you, Loki. We are exasperated by you, certainly. But we do not hate you.”

“Why did you have to bring me back?” he asked quietly. “I was nearly dead. You should have let me go.”

Her hand flashed round to slap at his face. But his fist came up and just about blocked it. He lifted his chin to eye her with anger. “How dare you,” she hissed. “It is not your time, Laufeyjarson. And even if it were, I would fight any deity who comes to take you away from this plane.”

He smiled. “There’s definitely something very wrong with you,” he said politely. She grabbed his hair with her free hand, her mouth aiming for his. But he lifted his chin just out of reach. “What is it you want?” he asked in fascination.

“Your company, nothing more.”

“I’m afraid that’s much too expensive. I got into this for my freedom, and nothing will stop me attaining that.”

She eyed him. “Sure?”

“Don’t make me fight you too.”

She gave a sly grin, her other hand gripping his jaw to tip his face closer to hers. “As we have already established, you would only enjoy the attempt.”

He put his hand up and pulled at hers gently, freeing himself. “That’s as may be,” he said wearily. She frowned, confused, her expectations definitely _not_ met. His face turned ever so slightly apologetic. “But I would _always_ be attempting freedom.”

“I understand.” She let him go, sliding a hand down his neck. She stood, looking down at him. “Then you shall _have_ your freedom. Perhaps one day when you become as old as Odin was, you will realise how you have traded the greatest companionship you could have had for mere loneliness.”

“I prefer to call it ‘independence’,” he said quietly.

“That, too, I understand.” She put her hand out.

He grabbed her palm and they pulled him to his feet. He dusted himself down, and although he may have wobbled slightly, he kept admirable balance.

“Hello?” came Thor’s voice.

Angela hastened to the wall and pressed at the controls by the door. “Yes?”

“Xandar is back! You did it, Loki! Xandar is back!”

Loki nodded, his hands on his hips, as he looked at his feet. “You helped. And the window?”

“Yes! I see it! You lying, manipulative _weasel!_ ” Thor cried, but the jubilation in his voice made Angela frown in confusion.

“What do you see, Thor?” she asked. She glanced at Loki but he was grinning at his boots.

“Asgard! Or at least the planet! I don’t see any buildings but I see the bifrost!”

“That’s… impossible,” Angela whispered. Her head snapped round and she _glared_. “Loki?”

He raised his hands, shaking them slightly as he grinned at her. “Surprise.”

 

 


	16. There's No Place Like Home

 

“Well that Nova Prime lady is certainly very nice,” Thor said happily. He stripped off the leather and metal gauntlets on his forearms and set them down by the sink. The rest of the rather sparse room looked on, amused by the way the God of Thunder had to stand on a packing crate or two to get anywhere near the water supply made for giants.

“She was until everything that happened started to fade from her memory,” Valkyrie said. Standing a way behind him, her arms folded, she simply watched in idle boredom as he started the cold water tap as little as possible, and pooled the resulting torrent in his palms.

“But Xandar is back as it was.” He splashed water over his face and the back of his neck. “I think we’ll all be better off for some rest and food.”

“And drink,” she said.

“Where’s Angela? Or is that a foolish question?”

“Believe it or not, she’s in the pilot’s chair just staring at the new Asgard your brother pulled out of his arse earlier today,” she said.

Thor reached for a mammoth towel by the sink, drying his face off. “Oh,” he said, sounding very disappointed.

“What?”

He turned and shrugged at her. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe… Well. Never mind.”

Valkyrie smiled sadly. “You can’t change him, you know. He’s like one of those furry four-legged things that used to sneak in through the open doors of the palace, eat through the stores, sleep by the fire, then piss off before they were found in the morning. You can’t make him go anywhere he doesn’t want to, and he’ll never come when he’s called.”

“Oh I know,” he said sadly. “But… I really hoped Angela might change him, you know? Cause a bit of personal growth.”

“The only personal growth he’s likely to experience is to his ego,” she smiled.

“You may be right.” He paused. “So… what will you do now? You have accomplished all you said you would. What next for the last noble valkyrie of Asgard?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You could make me an offer, your majesty.”

He smiled. “Come back with me. See the new Asgard - help us _make_ a new Asgard. No more gold looting, no more family squabbles, no more secrets that break a kingdom. What do you say?”

“Do I get a title?” she asked airily.

“Hmm. You can be… the head of the royal wine cellar, if you like. Or the first of a new order of valkyrie. And… my advisor. For when I forget myself and try to take over other realms.”

“You mean turn into your dad?” she teased.

He pointed at her. “Precisely,” he said. “Keep me on the straight and narrow. And I’ll need someone to go back to Nidavellir and get us a new sword to engage the bifrost - I’ll need my axe myself. Could you do that?”

“I could,” she said. “Pay me in alcohol and you have a deal.”

“Half alcohol, half food,” he said.

“Done.”

He grinned, then looked around. “Where _is_ Loki right now?”

“You mean ‘what trouble is he causing?’” she grinned. “None. He’s asleep, would you believe. I didn’t know gods slept.”

“We do. At least _I_ do. I’ve never seen Loki sleep - even when we were children.” He put a hand up to open his cybernetic eye wider. “I’ve only ever seen one of his eyes nap while the other stood on guard.”

Valkyrie chuckled. “Well he’s out for the count. Well and truly worn out.”

He let his hand drop. “How can you be sure?”

“I drew a moustache on him and he didn’t even move.”

Thor threw his head back and laughed.

 

. . .

 

“Well that’s what he _says_ ,” the man urged, “but have you ever seen or heard of any communication from this Loki fella?”

“Nope,” the woman said firmly. “I tell you, this Korg isn’t running the place for Loki at all - he’s just doing whatever he wants and saying it’s what Loki told him to do.”

“But how can we be sure?” another, shorter man asked.

“We ask him,” the woman nodded.

“What, now?”

“Now,” she said with a determined smile. “After all, his door is always open to us, right?” She looked at the two men. “Right?”

“She’s right,” the taller man said. “Let’s go.”

The three of them rounded the side of the building and wended their way through the streets, still festooned with bunting and the left-overs of streamers and balloons, flags and empty bottles. Although late in the afternoon, some people were only just emerging from their huts and houses, suitably rested after a night of drunken debauchery and relaxation.

Making it to the palace, they talked their way past many guards until they were finally brought to a stop by Balturm.

“Just hold up there,” he said, waving a digital clipboard at them.

“We have business with Korg,” the woman said.

“Ok - but what is it? I’ll tell him and he’ll just let you in,” he said, clueless.

“That’s just it - we want to know where he’s getting all these idea from,” she said. “The union, the food aid, all of it.”

“Well… Loki,” Balturm shrugged.

“How do you _know_ that?” she demanded.

“Have you seen it yourself?” the short man asked. “When was the last time this Loki spoke to him? By comms message, ship-to-ship, anything?”

“Uh - I don’t recall,” Balturm said. “I mean… he _says_ Loki tells him what to do for us, but… now you mention it…” He blinked, then scratched his head. “Well… I don’t think I’ve seen Loki since he left with the others.”

“See?” the woman said. “And when was the last time you saw a message come in from him?”

“Uh - well - never,” Balturm said, dismayed.

“Right. Excuse us - we want to talk to Korg,” she said, putting a hand out. She brushed him to one side and he watched dumbly - before collecting himself.

“Wait for me,” he said. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

They hurried through the lobby area to hear Korg’s voice from around the corner. They slowed, the woman pushed to the front by Balturm. She flapped her hands to stop them shoving her, then peeked carefully around the stone wall.

Korg was standing side-on to her in the large room, his hands on his hips, talking. As she cautiously edged further round, she realised all his attention was on someone about ten feet away - someone dressed in dark green, wearing a large, golden-horned helmet and holding a tall Asgardian-looking spear in his right hand.

“You know,” the man in green was saying, “you’ve done much better here than I expected. I think this is going to work out fine.”

Korg smiled. “Well I try, man. I mean I couldn’t be as good as you, but so far things are ok. How’s it going where you are?”

“If all goes to plan I should be back with you shortly,” he said. “I hope you’re ready for your _actual_ leader to return - after all you’re doing such a marvellous job in my place.”

“Oh psssh, Loki,” Korg said, embarrassed. “I’m just doing my best, you know? We’re all waiting for you to get back though - someone mentioned trade deals and I know you’d be better at those than me.”

“Trading what?”

“Uh - spices, I think. For trash - you know, the stuff that falls out of the wormholes around here,” Korg said.

The woman drew back. She shooed the three men, forcing them to retreat to the corridor again. “He’s talking to Loki right now!” she hissed. “He probably has been all along!”

“But Loki’s not here,” Balturm reasoned.

“No but he’s a god, right?”

“Is he?” he asked, confused.

“That’s what the Asgardian refugees say,” she said. “Maybe it’s like a long distance communication thing - you’ve heard the stories - he sees everything. He _hears_ everything.”

“Rubbish,” Balturm scoffed.

The others turned to look at him, then froze. Their faces began to turn white.

“What?” he asked. Realisation set in. “Oh no.” He whipped around.

Loki was standing not three feet behind Balturm, his horned helmet shining despite the lack of direct light, his head pointed down toward them, his eyes dark with fierce disapproval. “You must be Dave,” he said with politeness so well polished it sounded like a warning.

Balturm froze. “Uh—”

“From now on you will serve Korg much better than you pretend to do now, do you understand?”

“Uh - yes?” Balturm hazarded.

“Good,” Loki said. He took a step forward. “Because I would hate my first deed upon returning here to be making an example of you, Dave.”

“Wh-what?”

“So far Korg has been very good at keeping you all safe and happy. If you want life to continue in such a cavalier, care-free fashion, then you will do as he says and you will obey _his_ leader’s every word.”

“Or what?” the woman dared.

“I _beg_ your pardon?” Loki demanded. He turned his angry eyes on her.

She stepped back. “I mean, uh—”

“Did you _actually_ just challenge me?” Loki asked, incredulous. He took a step toward her. His right hand went out and the very top spike of Gungnir waved close to her nose. “Have a care, Sakaarian,” he said. “There are hundreds of planets out there - people like _Thanos_ out there - who would gladly descend upon this tiny world and make it theirs. And all that stands between your slavery and freedom is me. How I keep everyone under my protection is part of a master strategy so grand you could not comprehend it.” Gungnir dipped forward very gently. It did not touch her - but she felt something pass over her.

Abruptly she found herself on the floor looking up. Everyone, everything, was suddenly huge and overwhelming, towering over her. Material fell over her head, covered her eyes. “What’s happened?” she demanded - but her voice came out strange, foreign.

The three men and Loki looked down at the pile of apparently empty clothes on the floor. “What did you do?” Balturm asked.

Loki unleashed an evil grin. “She will need water and some food. I’d recommend flies.”

He turned to go - and a green wave made him disappear.

Balturm gasped. He crouched and moved the wraps of clothing until he found a particularly confused frog sitting on the material. “Whoa.”

“Uh… I think we should get out of here,” the short man said. “Just… quietly. Like no-one ever saw us. And… let’s never speak of this.”

“Agreed,” said the taller man. He turned and ran.

The shorter man followed.

Balturm picked up the frog. He turned it this way and that, fascinated. “Magic,” he breathed. His eyes still on the amphibian, he raced back out of the palace and into the street. “Magic!” he cried. “Loki can do magic! And he promised to protect us from all the evils of the universe! I spoke to him! I spoke to Loki! Look!”

People squinted; they pointed; they began to crowd around. “Tell us!” someone asked.

“Where do I start?” Balturm spluttered. “He’s really tall - and handsome! Such eyes! And he can do magic - look what he did to Harjolan!” he said, raising the frog.

It gave a startled _ribbit_ and attempted to jump. He grasped it carefully and guided it back down.

“Why did he turn her into a frog?” someone called. “Seems a bit harsh.”

“She didn’t understand,” Balturm said. “He was explaining how he was coming back to look after us, and she didn’t understand that sometimes you have to just do as you’re told and the bigger plan that you can’t see will work.”

“Whoa,” someone breathed, next to him. “He certainly _talks_ like a god.”

“Doesn’t he though?” Balturm grinned, bursting with pride. “And I met him! He spoke to _me!_ ”

Voices began to rise; questions began to float up from the ever-widening crowd.

“What was he like?”

“Tell us more about his eyes!”

“When will he come back?”

“Is he married?”

“Can he do other animals?”

“Stop! Everyone!” Balturm cried. “That’s all I know! But he was talking to Korg - all this time, he’s been telling him what to do!”

“I _told_ you,” someone snapped at the front. “And you thought poor Korg was winging it all this time.”

 

. . .

 

Loki waved a hand at Korg. “It’s fine. Look, I’ll be back soon and we’ll talk more then. I only wish I’d had time to speak to you before now, but it seems you’ve done fine without me.”

“Aw, you flatter me, man,” Korg managed.

“Well then. Until I return, you have one job - tell the refugees - _all_ of the refugees, of any description - that we have a new Asgard. And they’re welcome to go and build on it. Any house they build, they get to keep.”

“A new Asgard? How?” Korg gasped.

“I promised, and I have delivered,” he said, his voice weighed down by three fluid tonnes of honey.

“Wow, man. You’re like a real god or something.”

“Quite. And I shall return soon.”

“Yep. Have a safe trip. Don’t bump into any more ghosts.”

Loki eyed him with slight bemusement. “Right.” Then he waved a hand - and the image of Korg and his palace disappeared.

His eyes snapped open. He found himself still lying out on a bed - a giant bed, at least ten feet from the floor, the pillow the size of a human bed by itself. He considered the ceiling for a long moment, then lifted his right hand and the blue Infinity Stone in it. He stretched and forced himself to sit up.

Aches and pains ran through him and he sighed, about to get up. The memory of the pull of two Infinity Stones, the brain-stabbing agony of forcing them to comply, came flooding back. His hands went to his head and pressed as hard as they could, hoping to stave off some of the memory. But they clouded his eyes, fogged everything outside and now inside with two Infinity Stones warring for dominance. Sensing a way in, they wormed their way deeper, calling for him, crying out for his direction, his attention, his affection.

Without his command his body curled into a ball and his hands clutched at his head.

The stones whispered and pulled, pleading desperately for his affection - just a touch, they said. Just a little act to make them feel used, they said.

A crystal-clear vision came back to him, a perfect face loomed over a tiny version of himself, so small, so young - “ _people will twist your sentiment to their affections, Loki. Take care to recognise when this is manipulation and when this is genuine affection_.”

“ _How will I tell, Mother?_ ”

“ _When their attempt to use your sentiment is for their own advantage, not yours. When you manipulate to help someone without thought for yourself - that is true affection. In some people, love._ ”

“ _And in me?_ ”

“ _You have yet to manipulate for someone else’s advantage, my favourite cheeky monkey. You’ll know when you do._ ”

The words speared through the stones’ needs, shattered their hold over him. He opened his eyes, gasping through the pain, working his way back to clear sight and a clear conscience.

Minutes went by as he re-ordered his thoughts, adjusted to the words still echoing in his head.

Eventually he sat up and ran his hands through his hair. He scrubbed his hands over his face and pushed himself to the edge of the giant bed. Checking how far it actually was, he slipped off the side and landed square on his feet.

He pulled all his leathers straight and turned to check his own reflection in the shiny leg of a chair. He adjusted his clothes, then scraped his hair back to make it lie much more neatly. He peered at his face suddenly in confusion - then put a hand to his upper lip. He rubbed at it and a long, thin black mark started to rub away. He glared at the mark he had now transferred to his finger tips. And then the penny dropped.

“Valkyriiiiee!” he raged. “You little—”

He left the room remarkably quickly.

 

. . .

 

Angela held her hands out, a metal ball supported in each one. Loki dropped one Infinity Stone into each, sealing it up and then placing his hand on each in turn. They flamed cold green under his touch before fading back into dull metal. When he removed his hands Angela saw the balls were covered in tiny Asgardian script, mostly something about the wielder being cursed. It made her smile slightly.

“There,” he said cheerfully. He pulled a third silver ball from his pocket, opening it up to reveal the Infinity Stone and raising it to eye height. “And Amora makes three.” He shook it slightly. “You alright in there? What are you up to?” He peered closer, then pulled a face and looked away abruptly.

“Is she ok?” Angela asked, concerned.

“She is enjoying being one with ultimate power waaaay too much,” he said, as if to himself. Then he brought his other hand up to snap the ball shut and encase it, sealing it and labelling it before looking at Angela. “Well? All yours.” He handed her the last one.

She pushed all three into a bag at her hip. “When we get down to the surface I shall talk to Thor about where to hide these for the next millennium.”

“Good.”

“And then… perhaps I shall take a trip back to Nidavellir. To get some armour made.”

He smiled. “Whatever suits you.”

“You know… you relish all of this. But if you did it for different reasons… you could be more.”

His smile faded. “My brother once said the same thing.”

“Ah. Then is it possible we’re both correct?”

“There’s possible, and then there’s likely,” he winked.

She nodded. “Wherever you are headed next… think of me.”

“I will not,” he said dismissively. He watched her almost flinch at his words; something made him instantly regret them. He cleared his throat. “But… I think… there will be a part of what you and I were… that will be hard to forget,” he added quietly.

She swallowed. She took a step forward.

He backed up, lifting his chin. “Safe travels, Angela of Asgard.”

“Safe travels, Loki Laufeyjarson,” she managed.

“Look after those,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

She looked down at the bag at her hip, considering the three stones weighing heavily within.

A distinct feeling of loss made her look up.

He was gone.

 

. . .

 

The ship touched down ever so gently and Thor jumped from the ramp to land on the brand new grass of a brand new field. “Look at it!” he laughed, his impressive arms out wide. “It’s perfect!”

Loki ambled down the ramp at a much more cautious pace, watching everything with wary eyes. “It certainly seems that way.”

Thor shook his head. “A new Asgard. Just… breathe that in. It’s just like it was, but… new.”

Loki frowned. Then he shielded his eyes and looked into the distance, across the field. “What’s that?”

Thor snapped-to as if expecting a fight. He reached over his back for his new axe, but paused as he thought he recognised something in the movement of the blob coming toward them.

“Is that…?” Loki muttered.

“Oh my god…” Thor breathed. “Loki, what did you do?”

“Me?” Loki snapped defensively. “ _You_ helped me build this place!”

“I didn’t know you were going to bring back Asgard,” he argued. “You said _Xandar_ , so that’s what I was thinking of as you wielded both stones!”

“Well—.” Loki stopped short. “ _Odin on a trike_ ,” he cursed under his breath. “That’s _Heimdall_.”

They watched, open-mouthed, as first Heimdall closed on them - and then people began to fan out from their single file behind him.

“Asgardians,” Thor breathed. “They’re all here!”

Loki just stood, rooted to the spot, watching Heimdall draw nearer. The larger man grabbed Loki by the shoulders. Too stunned to do much else, Loki just blinked at him with large eyes made of shock.

“You,” Heimdall accused.

“Uh - I can explain—”

Heimdall wrapped huge arms round him and lifted him clear off the grass, squeezing harder and harder.

“It was Thor’s idea!” Loki rasped with the last of his breath.

Heimdall put him down again. “I saw you,” he said. “I saw you bring back all these people - and Asgard. I don’t think you get to be the ‘bad guy’ any more, Loki.”

“Uh - what?” he asked faintly.

“Remember, I see _everything_ ,” he intoned.

Loki just looked confused.

“You should have greeted your brother,” Heimdall added.

Loki’s face cleared. “Oh.”

“And knives aren’t kinky, they’re dangerous,” he said.

“Right. Shut up now,” Loki said hastily. “We have a new Asgard to build.”

People swarmed around them. Asgardians, back from the dead, shook at Loki’s hands, at his arm, clapped hands to his back. They greeted Thor, and then Angela and Valkyrie as they came down the ramp from the ship.

Thor waved his hands over the crowds. “Ok! Let’s all take a breath - and start planning how we’re going to rebuild!”

“We need another Loki statue,” someone joked. Laughter was heard all round - Thor turned to find his brother but he was nowhere to be seen.

 

. . .

 

Loki heard the sound of boots on the rock behind him but didn’t turn.

“Coward,” Thor said.

“I think you mean _saviour_.”

Thor snorted in amusement. “Maybe I do. Why did you run when everyone wanted to thank you?”

“It’s not really in my nature to be thanked. I’d feel more comfortable if they threw vegetables at me.”

Thor grinned. “I can arrange that if you’d like.” He came up and stood next to him, looking out over the drop-off in front of them, revealing a valley below. It was full of happy, relieved Asgardians. “But I think that, in time, you’d come to enjoy being liked instead of feared.”

“How has that worked out for _you_?”

“Better than you think.”

Loki glanced at him, then gazed out at the view. “Well, look at that. A shiny new Asgard - without all the baggage looted from the other realms over the years.” He looked to his right, but his eyes only made it as far as Thor’s feet. “What about Frigga? Odin? You know we could bring them back too.”

Thor’s head went back and he appraised the perfect blue sky. “No. Mother’s earned a rest after the millennia she put up with us, and Hela before us. And Odin’s with her now. Let them enjoy their retirement.”

“So… you get Asgard and the throne. And I get…?”

Thor looked at him. “Well Sakaar is unruled and vulnerable. I thought you would return there.”

“You want me off Asgard?”

Thor put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Loki. We all do,” he sighed. Loki raised his eyebrows. Thor bit his lip. “—Because… Sakaar needs help. _Your_ help.”

Loki smiled. “At least you’re honest.”

“Well I’ll have enough to worry about, now we have Amora trapped in an Infinity Stone - and three of them to hide.” He paused. “At least we have Angela back. I was hoping she’d be general of our armies.”

“She deserves nothing less - and she won’t let you argue her out of what’s right.”

“That’s why I need her,” Thor allowed. “It’s going to be hard, building a new Asgard.”

Loki waved a slow hand out across the view of a pristine world beneath them. “And you’re very welcome, All-Father.”

Thor grinned. He patted his hand down on Loki’s shoulder and gripped, giving it a tiny shake.

Loki nodded, Thor let him go, and Loki turned to walk away.

“Wait,” Thor called.

“More sentiment?” he asked, pausing to look back at him.

“How are you getting to Sakaar now that the stones are locked away?”

Loki shrugged. “I’ll find a way. I always do.”

“Be good on Sakaar. Make us proud.”

Loki grinned. “Till next time, brother.”

Loki walked away, unhurried, unburdened, unfettered.

And as he lifted his right palm to check the bright blue Infinity Stone was still there, he grinned.

 

 

**FIN**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a blast. There’s something about Loki that makes him irresistible to write. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for making it to the end!


End file.
